LITMIR.BIZ

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on the family ranch, showing up with her parents. Ugh!

      “Go with me.”

      Her heart took a leap before settling back down. “I don’t need a pity invitation,” she whispered, swallowing around the thick lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. How had the balance of the conversation shifted so quickly and completely? She’d enjoyed having the upper hand and now here she was, feeling at a disadvantage again.

      “Pity? It’s me that needs the pity.” His gaze was utterly earnest. “You’re the perfect date. Anyone else would get ideas, like you said. There’s never been any of that between you and me.”

      Clearly he had no clue of her earlier crush and it was just as well it stayed that way. Meg blinked. Could Clay really be so blind that he’d never sensed how she’d felt? She nearly blushed just thinking about it. She’d never been the kind of girl to try to stand out, but she’d always hoped he’d notice.

      But that was before. She’d grown up a lot over the last few years—first when her father had been injured and couldn’t work the ranch anymore, and then with her illness. There were no such things as fairy tales and wishes. There was hard work and determination and practicalities. Reality had a way of hitting and keeping one’s head out of the clouds. And right now Clay was suggesting she go to a wedding as his date—not because he wanted a date but because she was a safe bet. She was protection.

      She was a practical girl, but the complete absence of any sort of romance cut her. Was she so undesirable then? She’d always liked being “one of the boys” when it came to the ranch work. But that had been before, when she’d been confident, and, well, whole. She hadn’t cared as much then. “I’m sorry, Clay, I haven’t even decided if I’m going or not.”

      “Not go? But Aunt Stacy will be so disappointed. Your mom is standing up with her, you know. Your whole family is going. Of course you’ll be there.”

      “Like I said, I haven’t decided.”

      He pressed his back into the bench slats and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle. “How will it look if you don’t go?”

      “I’m sure Stacy will understand.”

      “I don’t mean Stacy. What do you think everyone else will think? You’re home from the hospital but you’re hardly seen out of the house. Everyone will wonder if you’re really fine. Rumors will get started.”

      Her temper started to simmer. “I didn’t realize you had your ear so close to the grapevine,” she said tightly. “Your concern is very touching.”

      Clay’s eyes sparked. “You were the one who said you wanted everyone to think you were strong and fit. Isn’t that why you went away in the first place? So no one would see you at the worst? What does it say now that you’re home and you’re hiding away?”

      She hated that he was right. She hated that he was insightful enough to anticipate that her absence would cause more speculation than her presence and yet could be so blind to other things. And she hated that he knew her well enough to use it.

      “Maybe that I want some privacy.”

      Clay let out a derisive snort. “Privacy? In Larch Valley? Come on, Meg. You know better than that. People are always going to talk.”

      She grabbed on to the straw he offered. “That’s right. And if I go with you, what do you think they’ll say?”

      She had him there, and he paused for a moment. “So what? We’ll know the truth. And if we go together it means neither of us will have to go through the day alone. You’ll have my back and I’ll have yours. Just like it’s always been.”

      The retort that sat on Meg’s lips died. It was true—the idea of going through the day alone was a major issue. Her mom and dad would be together. Dawson would be with Tara. Megan would be on her own, the odd woman out. Conspicuous. Fair game for curious minds and any number of well-intentioned but sympathetic questions. Wasn’t that the real reason she’d stayed close to home since her return? Even now, sitting on the bench, she was aware of curious gazes in her direction. It was only Clay’s presence that kept them at a distance. She didn’t want to hide behind him, but she couldn’t deny that the idea of facing the day together was much better than walking into a room alone.

      “I don’t need your protection,” she replied, but she was weakening. He was right. Again. It annoyed her but it couldn’t be disputed. With Clay on her arm perhaps the partygoers would have something else to talk about.

      “And I don’t need yours, either. Both of us could make it through the evening on our own. Hell, I planned to and told Stacy as much. You have to admit, though, it makes sense. Come on, Meg.” He smiled and her heart gave a little lurch. “You won’t subject me to the likes of Lisa Hamm, will you?”

      “Lisa’s a nice girl.”

      She certainly was, but she and Clay would never suit. Lisa was high maintenance, high-strung and a bit needy. Meg could never see her as a rancher’s wife. Clay needed someone easier. Someone low-key, easygoing. Someone to work beside him, a partner and not a pet.

      “She’s not my type and you know it, Megan Briggs.”

      Her lips twitched at the thought of Clay choking on a tie while Lisa and her five-inch heels flitted about him.

      “I haven’t been a very good friend lately, and I know it. I really am sorry for what I said last spring. Can’t we go back to how it used to be?”

      In a way how it used to be sounded great, but she also realized it wasn’t enough anymore. Not for her. But he was offering an olive branch and it would be petty not to accept it. In the end she couldn’t refuse, not when he looked at her in the warm, conspiratorial way he was looking at her right now.

      “All right. We’ll go together.”

      “Awesome.” He sat up and clapped his hands on his knees. “There’s one problem solved. That’s the trick, Meg. Finding solutions that benefit both parties. You help me, I help you. Everyone goes home happy.”

      He had no idea.

      “I’ll see you around, Squirt.” He got up from the bench and shook out his pant legs while Meg sat, feeling like she’d been hit broadside and left completely off balance. How had this all happened in the space of an hour?

      She looked down at her wax paper bag. The hazelnut brownie was a mangled, gooey mess inside.

      “Yeah, see you,” she mumbled, avoiding his gaze and reaching for her purse and keys.

      “Megan.”

      She looked up at him, not wanting him to know how flustered she suddenly felt, and how childish and small he’d made her feel by employing her old nickname.

      “About your project … don’t give up. You’ll find a way. You always do.”

      To her surprise he lifted a finger to the brim of his hat before walking away. For all his faults and little annoyances, she’d just been reminded that Clay Gregory was a gentleman. And that she, as a woman, wasn’t impervious to his charms.

      They had a date. To a wedding. A wedding where she’d have to wear heels and a dress and fix her hair …

      She put her fingers to her lips as the panic set in. What on earth had she just gotten herself into?

      CHAPTER FOUR

      IT HAD taken Meg a week to gather up the courage to visit Lily’s boutique, and she’d played with the idea of going to Calgary and being another anonymous customer in some chain store. But she knew Clay was right about some things—one being that she couldn’t avoid people forever. Between Lily’s own unique designs and her carefully selected stock, she’d surely have something to suit Meg’s needs. It was time Meg stopped being afraid. And the wedding date was growing closer. In a way, she was grateful for the push the shopping trip provided.

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