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get away without any incidents. I’m sorry if it inconvenienced you, Mrs. Sullivan.”

      Gram waved away her concern. “It’s you I’m concerned about. Has this thing with my grandson been going on for long?”

      Any color in Meg’s cheeks leached away, leaving her pasty white beneath the light splattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. “I…ah…we aren’t—”

      “Gram, we aren’t together. In fact until she ran out of the church I’d never seen Meg before. She needed a lift and I was there. End of story. No one else knows where she is.”

      “My goodness, what happened? Why did you run away?” Gram pressed a bony hand to her lips, halting the stream of questions. Seconds later, she lowered her hand to her lap. “Sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to be so dang nosy. Climb in here and we can give you a ride back to town.”

      Seeing alarm in Meg’s eyes, Cash spoke up, “We can’t do that, Gram.”

      “Well, for heaven’s sake, why not? She obviously needs to get out of that filthy gown. And we sure aren’t going to leave her here on the side of the road.”

      “I can’t go home,” Meg spoke up. “Not yet.”

      “But what about Harold?” Gram asked. “Shouldn’t you let him know where you are? He looked so worried.”

      Meg’s face grew ashen as she pressed her hand to her stomach. She turned to Cash, her eyes wide with anguish. she pushed past him and ran off.

      “Meg—wait.” He dogged her footsteps to a rock in the distance.

      When she bent at her waist he grabbed at the white material of her dress, pulling it back for her. He’d hoped the nausea had passed, but one mention of the wedding and she was sick again.

      Was she overtaken by regret about leaving old what’s-his-name at the altar? Had her conscience kicked in and it was so distressing that it made her ill?

      He considered telling her what he’d witnessed when he’d gone back for Gram, but what purpose would it serve? Obviously the thought of the wrecked wedding was enough to make her sick. Knowing the man she must still love had turned on her wasn’t likely to help.

      When she straightened, her eyes were red and her face was still ashen. She swayed and he put a steadying arm around her waist. He had no doubt the hot sun was only making things worse.

      “I’m fine,” she protested in a weak voice. “There’s nothing left in my stomach. Just dry heaves.”

      He didn’t release his hold on her until he had her situated in the pickup next to his grandmother. “Gram, can you turn up the air-conditioning and aim the vents on her?”

      Without a word Gram adjusted the dials while he helped Meg latch her seatbelt. Once she was secure, he shut the door and rushed over to the driver’s side.

      He shifted into Drive, but kept his foot on the brake. “Where can we take you, Meg?”

      When she didn’t answer, he glanced over to find her head propped against the window. She stared off into the distance, looking as if she’d lost her best friend and didn’t know where to turn. In that instant he was transported back in time almost twenty years ago, a little boy who needed a helping hand. If it hadn’t been for Gram…

      “We’ll take you back to the Tumbling Weed,” he said, surprising even himself with the decision.

      “Where?” Meg’s weary voice floated over to him, reassuring him that he’d made the right decision.

      “It’s Cash’s ranch,” Gram chimed in. “The perfect place for you to catch your breath.”

      “I don’t know.” She worried her bottom lip. “You don’t even know me. I wouldn’t want to be an imposition.”

      “With there just being Cash and me living there, we could use the company. Isn’t that right, Cash?”

      “You live there too?” Meg looked directly at his grandmother.

      Gram nodded. “So, what do you say?”

      Cash wasn’t as thrilled about their guest as his grandmother. Meg might be beautiful, and she might have charmed his grandmother, but she was trouble. The press wasn’t going to let up until they found her. He could already envision the headlines: Runaway Bride Stolen by Thieving Cowboy. His gut twisted into a painful knot.

      “You’re invited as long as you keep your location a secret,” he said, his voice unbending. “I can’t afford to have the press swooping in.”

      “Oh, no,” Meg said, pulling herself upright with some effort. “I’d never bring them to your place. I don’t want to see any of them.”

      Honesty dripped from her words, and a quick glance in her direction showed him her somber expression. But what if she started to feel better and decided she needed to fix her reputation? Or, worse, made a public appeal to what’s-his-name to win him back?

      Then again, she wouldn’t be there that long. In fact it was still early in the day. Not quite lunchtime. If she rested, perhaps she’d be up to going home this evening.

      Certain she’d soon be on her way, he said, “Good. Now that we understand each other, let’s get moving.”

      The cold air from the vents of Cash’s new-smelling pickup breathed a sense of renewed energy into Meghan. She was exhausted and dirty, but thankfully her stomach had settled. She gazed out the window as they headed southeast. She’d never ventured in this direction, but she enjoyed the vastness of the barren land, where it felt as if she could lose herself and her problems.

      Instinctively she moved her hand to her stomach. There wasn’t time for kicking back and losing herself. This wasn’t a vacation or a spa weekend. This was a chance to get her head screwed on straight, to figure out how to repair the damage to her life and prepare to be a single mother.

      The thought of her impending motherhood filled her with anxiety. What she didn’t know about being a good parent could fill up an entire library. The only thing she did know was that she didn’t want to be like her own mother—emotionally distant and habitually withholding her approval. Instead, Meghan planned to lavish her baby with love.

      But what if she failed to express her love? What if she fell back on the way she’d been raised?

      “Here we are,” Cash announced, breaking into her troubled thoughts.

      The truck had stopped in front of a little whitewashed house with a covered porch and two matching rocking chairs. the place was cute, but awfully small. Certainly not big enough for her to keep out of everyone’s way.

      Cash cut the engine and rounded the front of the truck. He swung open the door she’d only moments ago been leaning against. She released her seat restraint as Cash held out his hands to help her down. As the length of her dress hampered her movements she accepted his offer. His long, lean fingers wrapped around her waist. Holding her securely, he lowered her to the ground in one steady movement.

      She tilted her chin upward and for the first time noticed his towering height. Even with her heels on he stood a good six inches taller than her own five-foot-six stature. His smoky gray eyes held her captive with their intensity.

      She swallowed. “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.” His lips lifted in a small smile, sending her tummy aflutter.

      Before she could think of anything to say he turned to his grandmother and helped her out of the vehicle. Martha rushed up the walk, appearing not to need any assistance getting around. Meghan could only hope to be so spry when she got on in years.

      Martha, as though remembering them, stopped on the porch. “See you at five o’clock for dinner.”

      She’d turned for the door when Cash said, “Wait, Gram. You’re forgetting Meg.”

      “Not

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