Closing her hand, Meg cradled it against her chest and laughed. "I can't believe he took it."
She heard a noise and glanced over her shoulder to see
the twins sauntering toward her, rubbing their bellies. They dropped to the ground in front of her.
"I ain't never ate so much in my whole entire life," Josh said.
Leaning forward, Meg scratched their stomachs. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."
"Clay, it don't hardly seem enough to tell Miz Meg that she cooks the best food in the whole state. We was wonderin' if we could share the bats with her."
"I'm sure Mrs. Warner has seen the bats," Clay said.
"The bats?" Meg asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Josh said. "They look like smoke risin' out of the hills when the sun goes down."
Meg looked at Clay. "Did Kirk know about the bats?"
"Yes, ma'am. We found them when we were about twelve."
"He never showed them to me," she said, feeling a sense of loss.
"There's a particular spot we have to go to see them," he said as his hands formed the shape of a mountain. "It's not easy to get to, and he probably didn't think you'd enjoy bats."
"I'd like to see the bats," she said.
"Miz Meg," Joe said solemnly, "we should probably tell you that we've got one rule when it comes to goin' to sec the bats. If you decide to come with us, you gotta follow that rule."
"And what's the rule?"
"No matter how scared you get, you can't turn back."
Fear, as Meg soon discovered, could lope along beside her like two whistling twin boys. She jumped every time they hopped on a twig, broke a small branch off a tree in passing, or hollered, "Watch out!"
But she refused to turn back. As the shadows grew longer and they traveled farther, she hiked up her skirt and marched along with them.
Clay followed at an easy gait, leading her horse.
The twins stopped. "That's it, Miz Meg."
Meg searched the twilight sky. "Where? What does a bat look like? I don't know if I've ever seen one before."
"Not the bats," Josh said. "What we gotta climb to see the bats."
Meg lowered her gaze and followed the trail of his pointing finger. The mountain loomed before her.
Clay might call it a hill, but it was a mountain.
"Sun's goin' down, so we gotta hurry!" Josh cried as he and Joe ran toward the mountain.
"You don't have to do this," Clay said quietly behind her.
She angled her chin. "Of course I do. That's the rule." Bending, she reached between her feet and grasping the back of her skirt, brought it up and tucked it into her waistband so she had a makeshift type of trousers. She didn't know why she hadn't thrown on Kirk's clothes before she crawled out her bedroom window. Probably because she hadn't realized she'd be out searching for bats.
She walked to the foot of the mountain and stared at the twins scrambling up its side. Grabbing the bushes as one went seemed to be the secret. She took a deep breath.
"I know you're not fond of my touch," Clay said, "so I think I'd better warn you. If you start to fall, I'll do all in my power to catch you."
She glanced over her shoulder. "Then I'd best not fall."
She flexed her fingers before wrapping them around the low branch of a bush. She stepped onto the slope.
"Test your weight on that spot before you go any farther," Clay said.
"I can do this without your help," she said as she glared
at the high rocky ledge from which the twins were already peering down at her. She tried to test her weight on the spot without letting Clay sec she was following the advice. She heard him move in behind her. "You're not coming up with me, are you?"
"No, ma'am, I'll follow a good distance behind."
Meg released her stranglehold on the bush and lunged for another one. She pulled up inch by inch. She'd be at least a year older before she saw the bats.
The twins urged her on. She reached for another branch and scooted farther up the side of the hill. She had nothing to fear.
She glanced down. Clay still stood on the ground. He'd hiked one foot up so it rested on the hill, but his arms hung at his side as though he were waiting for her to climb farther before he followed.
She moved her foot to a large rock protruding out of the dirt. She knew how strong rocks could be, so she shifted her weight to that side. The rock broke free of the earth and fell down the side of the hill. Losing her footing, she dangled from the bush.
Then she heard a crack. Clay was right. The sound of a crack when you weren't wanting one was deafening. Almost as deafening as her scream as she slid down the hill.
She came to an abrupt halt with the hard, prickly side of the hill pressed to her stomach, and a strong, firm man pressed against her back.
He'd kept one foot firmly planted on the ground. He'd dug the other one into the side of the hill. She was practically sitting on his hard thigh with her body nestled against him so her head Tit snugly against his shoulder.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, and his breath whispered along the nape of her neck.
She turned her face to tell him that she was fine and he
didn't need to hold her. He furrowed his brow, and sorrow filled his eyes.
"Ah, you scratched your face," he said in a low voice as he gently touched the tips of his fingers to her cheek.
He gazed at her cheek, and Meg wondered how badly she was cut. Her check smarted, but it wasn't the small ache that brought tears to her eyes. It was the expression of wonder on Clay's face.
"Dear God, but you're soft," he said in a raw voice.
He lifted his fingers away from her face and stepped back. Meg stumbled before catching her balance.
Averting his gaze, he shoved his hands into his pockets, reminding her of a lost little boy. He looked as though he'd just discovered something he'd have been better off not knowing.
He cleared his throat and scuffed the toe of his boot against the ground, turning up the roots of the grass and weeds. "You gonna try again?"
Meg brushed her raw hands together. "Is that the only way up?"
He nodded solemnly. "I could go up right behind you. Stop you sooner if you lose your hold."
"Isn't there a chance that we'd both just tumble down the side of the mountain?"
He gave her a lopsided grin. "Yeah, but I'd be softer to fall on than the ground."
She wasn't completely certain about that. From what she'd just felt, his body was as rock hard as the stone into which he cut. She breathed deeply. "All right. I don't want to disappoint the twins."
She grabbed the bush that had served her well during her first attempt to climb the hill, and she placed her foot on a scraggly bit of earth. Clay moved behind her, and she pressed her body against the earth.
She eased her way up. He swung his arm over her and grabbed a bush above her head. His body brushed against hers. Kirk had always smelled of bay rum. Clay shelled of the earth, strong and musky. He didn't attempt to cover his male scent. He was as natural as his rocks.
She pulled up to the next bush. As close as her shadow, he stayed with her. She imagined that the positioning of his body over hers gave the appearance of a compromising situation, which prompted her to move a little more quickly.
"Don't rush," he said.
"I'd like to get to the top before I'm an old woman."
Her foot slipped. His hand clamped around her waist
"Slow and easy will get you there," he said.
"Patience is not one of my strong suits."
He chuckled. "I know."
She jerked her head around. "What did Kirk tell you about my patience?"
"Nothing. Now reach for the roots of that tree."
Meg did as instructed, over and over, reaching for the limbs and roots he indicated, pulling herself up, gaining ground slower than she would have liked, but losing very little. He began to slip his foot beneath hers, giving her additional support More often, he only used
one hand to hold onto the side of the hill. With his other hand, he held her waist or splayed his fingers across the small of her back. She thought he probably had the largest hands in the entire state. And perhaps the strongest. And in an odd sort of waythe gentlest.
It also occurred to her that he seemed extremely skilled at helping someone climb the hill. She wondered with how many other ladies he might have shared the bats.
"Just a little more, Miz Meg!" Josh yelled.
Meg scooted up and felt small hands grab her wrists.
"That's it, Miz Meg," Joe said. "We won't let you fall."
She smiled as she eased over the edge of the hill. Then she shrieked as Clay pushed against her backside and sent her sprawling over the top.
She scrambled to her feet and glared at the man as he worked his way over the edge. She was tempted to place her foot on his shoulder and send him back down the hill.
Rubbing his hands on his thighs, he turned as red as the sun-banked horizon. "I'm sorry. It just seemed the best way to get you over the edge."
Meg dusted off her skirt and flicked her hands over her backside. "No harm done, but I think I could have gotten over without assistance."
"Come on, Miz Meg," Josh said. "It's pert' near time."
The boys grabbed her hands and pulled her toward the far side of the plateau. When they reached it they released their hold, fell to their stomachs, and peered over the ledge.
"Oh, don't do that," she said. "You'll fall."
"No, we won't," Josh assured her.
"It bothers Mrs. Warner for you to be so near the edge," Clay said. "You won't miss anything if you scoot back."
Joe glanced over his shoulder. "How come we can call her Miz Meg and you can't?"
"Because she and I have a business arrangement. It wouldn't be proper."
"She call you Mr. Holland?"
"No. You need to be watching for the bats now."
Meg was grateful the boys turned their attention back to the view before them. She didn't want to explain why she wouldn't say their brother's name. Carefully, she walked to the edge and eased onto her stomach beside Joe. Clay stretched out beside Josh, and she was glad they had the buffer of the twins between them.
"Gawd Almighty! Look at the sky," Josh said.
"Yep, it's beautiful all right," Clay said.
The deep blue sky melted into wisps of pink weaving among streaks of lavender and orange. Meg couldn't remember the last time she'd actually watched the sun set and appreciated its majestic farewell. The moon was already a faint glow as though anxious to bring on the night. "Do you come here often?" she asked. "Yes, ma'am," Josh said. "As often as we can. It's a good place to be glad for all the things we have."
For all the things they had: an occasional biscuit, a brother who was shunned by the community. She didn't know if their innocence was a blessing or a curse. "Look, Miz Meg. There they are." She peered over the edge at the hills fanning out over the countryside. She saw a small spiral of smoke rising into the fading sky. "Where do they come from?" she asked.
"We don't know," Josh said. "We figure there's a cave or somethin' down there, but it's one of those things where the not knowin' makes it special."
Josh scrambled over Clay's back. Quickly, Joe followed him. Josh reached across Clay and patted the spot he'd vacated. "Move over here, Miz Meg, so you can see better." She wanted to tell them (hat she could see just fine where she was, but she could tell from their expressions that the twins thought they were offering her the most wonderful gift in the world. How could she possibly face them tomorrow if she hurt their feelings now?
She scooted over until she was as close to Clay as she could get without actually touching him. The twins nestled beside Clay as though settling in for a long night's sleep. The spiral of smoke widened and reached higher. The flurry of activity blackened the sky. Meg hard the high-pitched squeaks and rustle of wings. She'd never experienced anything like it. Moments passed, and no one spoke, as though each was mesmerized by the incredible number of pats soaring toward the distant horizon.
"Where do they go?" Meg whispered.
"Got no idea," Clay said.
"When do they come back?"
"Near dawn."
"How do you know?"
"We stayed here all night once waiting to see when they came back."
"You and the twins?"
"No, me and your husband. Only he wasn't your husband at the time."
Meg intertwined her fingers. "I won't get upset if you say his name."
He slid his gaze over to hers. "I wouldn't want you to think I was being disrespectful."
"I won't think that."
Sagely, he nodded before turning his attention back to the flying creatures.
"I guess you've shared the bats with a lot of people," she said, wishing it didn't bother her to think about all the women with whom he might have shared this unique place.
"Just you and the twins. Invited Lucian once, but he wasn't interested."
The smoky haze of bats disappeared, leaving an audible silence in their wake. Meg wished she could stay here forever, away from the bitter words and hatred that filled the world below.
"He doesn't know what he's missing," she said quietly.
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
"Miz Meg!"
Meg dismounted the next morning and hugged each twin before handing them the reins. "Thank you for yesterday evening," she said.
"Our pleasure, ma'am," Josh said. "And guess what? We figured out who you should marry."
Meg stopped walking, not certain she wanted to hear this announcement. How could she explain that she would never, could never many their brother?
"We decided you ought to marry Robert Warner."
"Robert?"
"Yes, ma'am. He seems nice enough, and you wouldn't have to change your name."
Meg laughed self-consciously. "I thought you were going to say I should marry your brother."
"Clay?"
She nodded.
"Ah no, ma'am." Josh said. "It wouldn't do at all for you to marry Clay. If you married him, he'd no doubt want to kiss you from time to time, and we figure kissin' is unpleasant enough when you like the person you're kissin'. It'll be downright miserable to kiss someone you hated."
Meg felt her heart lurch. It bothered her that the twins realized that she hated their brother. The words coming from their innocent mouths sounded so ugly.
They walked toward the shed. Clay stood in the doorway, waiting for her. Yesterday had changed something between them, and she had a feeling that the following days would more closely resemble the days they'd shared before Tom had needed a marker for his daughter.
When they neared the shed, the twins led the horse away. Clay gave her a cautious smile. "Morning."
She laced her fingers together. "Good morning."
"I like the way you're wearing your hair now," he said.
Meg touched the chignon. "This is less trouble than trying to imprison it in a knot at the back."
"Looks prettier, too." He stepped back. "It's been a couple of days since I did any cutting. Hope I remember how."
"I would think it's not something you'd easily forget"
Tying his bandanna over his face, he walked to his table. Meg picked the bandanna off the chair. "Will we need to wear these when you're cutting the details?"
"No," he said, his breath causing his bandanna to billow away from his mouth.
She remembered the feel of that warm breath last night on her flesh. Silling, she wrapped the bandanna around her face. She was as anxious now to watch Clay work unmasked as she was to see Kirk's features take shape in the stone.
Clay began to work, and clouds of dust materialized. Before she went home each evening, she stopped along the river to wash off the stone powder coating her skin. She supposed Clay felt even grimier than she did at the end of the day. Even now, his hair was sprinkled with the fine particles.
Her thoughts drifted to R
obert. He would make an exceptional husband, but the image didn't appeal to her as much as it had two days ago. His unspoken promise lay heavy on her heart.
Clay stepped down from the stool and walked to the table. He no longer felt the need to step outside and dunk his head in a bucket of water when the scent of honeysuckle became too strong.
He'd taken it personally when she didn't want Tom to see her here, but in the past few days, he'd learned he'd rather have her here than not. "I'm stopping for awhile."
"Oh, yes, of course." She rose from the chair, walked to the stone, and placed her hand on the granite.
"I carved on the other side," he said.
"Of course." She moved to the other side and touched the shaved stone.
"Is something bothering you today?" he asked.
She sighed. "Did you tell the twins I hate you?"
"No, but they tend to notice a lot more than they should, and sometimes they sound like eighty-year-old men thinking about life."
She smiled weakly. "They think I should marry Robert."
"He's a good man."
"He fought at Shiloh."
"Then I'd say he was close to perfect."
She pressed her forehead against the stone. "I loved Kirk so much. I can't imagine someone taking his place."
"And no one ever will, but he was the kind of man who'd step aside and make room for someone else. He'd want you to find happiness."
"Sometimes, it seems impossible. Watching the bats was the closest I've come to being happy in years. The twins look at the world the way I used to, the way I always thought I would."
A dull ache throbbed through his chest for all she'd lost. Brave Meg. She'd watched the man she loved ride away, never to return to her side. He picked up a small chisel and hammer. "Want to chip off a piece of the stone?"
She pulled her head back with such force he was surprised she didn't snap her neck. "What?"
He held out the tools. "Thought you might like to cut on the rock a little bit."
"I could ruin it. Then all your efforts would be for nothing."
"I don't think you'll ruin it. You can chip a small piece off this comer that I haven't touched yet."
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