acting like Stacy. She’s been hovering and cooking and freezing things for weeks, like I’m going to starve if she’s not there.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why she has to flutter so much. We’ve shared the cooking before. I can manage to not poison myself.”
At his disgruntled expression Megan felt her remaining jitters melt away. “It might not have anything to do with you. Maybe she’s nervous, Clay, and needs something to keep her hands busy.”
He pondered for a moment. “No, I think it’s more than that. She’s been pushing me to bring a date to the wedding. I’m telling you, Meg, weddings make women stir-crazy. All of a sudden they think everyone in the universe should be paired up.”
The air had warmed since the recent cold snap and Meg loved the feel of the early spring sun on her face. It was good to chat about a different topic, putting the focus on someone else and such a happy occasion. “Weddings are a big deal,” she answered, and at Clay’s raised brow, she amended, “So I’ve heard.”
“I don’t know why she thinks I need a date.”
“Someone to pin on your boutonniere?”
“My what?”
Meg really laughed this time. Putting Clay on the back foot was much more fun than thinking about everything that had gone wrong this morning. As distractions went, he was fairly helpful, and for the first time since coming home she felt a return to the easy friendship they’d enjoyed years past. She let her eyes sparkle at him. “See? That’s why. Your flower, silly, on your lapel. I’m assuming you’re in the wedding party.”
“I’m giving her away. Then it’s just a dinner, right?”
“And a dance, so Mom said.”
“Well, whatever. Just because she’s getting married she thinks she can match me up. She suggested Tara Stillwell as if she didn’t already know Dawson’s staked his claim there.”
Meg’s head whipped around. How had things become that serious so quickly? There were times she still felt so out of the loop while Clay seemed to know everything. “Staked his claim? She’s not a parcel of land, Clay.”
“You know what I mean. There are rules and I’m no poacher. Besides, I’m not interested in Tara, for all she’s a nice girl.”
“Are you interested in anyone?” she asked—and then held her breath waiting for an answer.
What had made her ask? Why did it matter if he had his eye on a girl? Why shouldn’t he? It shouldn’t bother her in the least. But it did. She didn’t want him for herself anymore but the thought of him being with someone … it felt wrong.
“No. When I said that she said I should ask Lisa Hamm or Emily Dodds—you know, Agnes’s granddaughter? It was all I could do to put her off. There’s a dance, she said.” He took off his hat and ran his hand over his thick, dark hair, clearly agitated. “If I’m not with someone it’ll be open season, she said. Which is ridiculous.”
It wasn’t ridiculous at all. If Clay went unattached, there’d be a dozen pair of hungry eyes waiting to be asked to dance—or doing the asking themselves. It was nice to know Clay’s ego wasn’t so inflated that he realized it.
That wouldn’t be a concern for Meg. If she went—and she hadn’t decided if she would or not—she’d be holding up a wall somewhere. Who would ask her to dance? She grimaced. She’d be a curiosity. Lots of people looking but keeping her at arm’s length. On one hand, it was what she wanted, because physical contact still made her nervous. But on the other it was damned awkward in a social situation. Which was exactly why she’d avoided those thus far.
“You’re a pretty eligible guy, Clay.” Meg turned on the bench so she faced him better. “You’re not exactly hard to look at. You’re in your prime with a lovely ranch all to yourself. Where Larch Valley’s concerned, you’re prime marriage material.”
Clay looked so horrified Meg nearly choked on the laughter that bubbled up. “Shut up!” he said, putting his hat more firmly on his head. “That’s not true.”
“Oh, it so is,” she answered, having fun now. Clay had done his share of teasing over the years and it was gratifying to put the shoe on the other foot. “Add in the fact that you’ll be all spic-and-span in a suit and they won’t be able to resist. They’ll be falling all over you, wanting to dance. To catch your eye. Maybe something else.” She waggled her eyebrows for effect. “And then there’s the throwing of the bouquet and the tossing of the garter …”
“Megan!” He said it loudly enough that a passerby turned to stare before carrying on down Main Avenue. He lowered his voice. “I know you’re teasing but that’s not funny. I’m not interested. Not in anyone. Definitely not in marriage.”
Once more that odd little hole of emptiness threatened to widen. The bitterness she’d always sensed in him where marriage was concerned hadn’t mellowed over the years. Not that she could blame him. How did one get over being abandoned by their one remaining parent? Times had been rough for the Gregory family, but Clay’s mom hadn’t toughed it out. For better or worse, sickness and health … that hadn’t mattered. They’d never really talked about it, but Megan could understand at least that much. Clay hadn’t had the strong example of a good marriage that she’d had growing up.
“All I’m saying is that Stacy is on to something. If you went with a date, you’d save yourself a lot of trouble. You just have to find someone with no romantic aspirations.”
“Who are you going with?”
Her gaze flitted away. “I’ve been included in the family invitation,” she said quietly. She hadn’t even decided yet if she was going. She didn’t know what to wear, knew nothing in her closet suited the changes to her figure. She had barely even shown her face around town, let alone show up at the first big social event of the spring. And it would be a big event. Weddings in the valley always were. At least when she’d first thought about it, she’d pictured being able to share news of how she was picking up and carrying on with her own business. Proof that she was fine and standing on her own two feet. Now she had none of that to bolster her. Poor, pathetic Megan, back 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
