Rancher to the Rescue. Jennifer Faye
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Meghan heard herself saying, “Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m with a friend.”
“But why did you run out on the wedding? I thought you wanted to marry Harold? He acted so broken up and shocked when you took off.”
“What?” Her mouth gaped as her fingers clenched the phone tighter to her ear.
“Harold barely held it together when he told the family that he didn’t have a clue why you ran out on him.”
“He knew…”
That low-down, sniveling, two-faced creep. Her blood boiled in her veins. How could he turn the tables on her when he was the one who’d done the jilting?
He was worried about his image. It always came back to what would look best for him and his company. Why should he take any of the blame for the ruined wedding when she wasn’t there to defend herself?
“Meghan, what did he know? Are you still there?”
“He lied,” she said, trying to remain calm so she didn’t say something she’d regret later. But she couldn’t let her sister believe Harold’s lies. “He knew exactly why I left.”
“It’s okay,” Ella said as sympathy oozed in her voice. “I understand you got cold feet. Remember I was there not that long ago—”
“I didn’t get cold feet. There are things you don’t know.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t yet. This is different from when you called off your engagement. And it seems to me you’ve been spending all of your time hiding in your bakery.”
“This isn’t about me.” Ella sighed. “Harold hinted that the stress of planning such a large wedding might have driven you over the edge.”
“But that’s not what happened.” Why hadn’t she seen this side of Harold a long time ago? Had it been there all along? She’d thought he was honorable and with time he would accept the baby.
“It doesn’t matter. Just come home. The whole family is worried. Mother is beside herself. She says she’ll never be able to step outside again because she’s too embarrassed.”
“And what do you expect me to do?” she asked, tired of being the oldest and the one expected to deal with their mother. “Nothing I say will make her less embarrassed.”
In fact it’d only make it that much worse when her straitlaced mother, a pillar of the community, found out her unwed daughter was pregnant by the boy-next-door—the same guy who’d dumped her and their baby at the altar.
“But, Meghan, you have to—”
“No, I don’t. Not this time. You and Katie are going to have to deal with her. I need some space to figure things out. Until I do, I won’t be of any help to anyone.”
Ella huffed. “So when are you coming home?”
She wanted to go to her apartment and hide away, but she wouldn’t have any peace there. And there was no way she was going to her mother’s house.
“I don’t know. I have two weeks planned for the honeymoon so don’t expect to see me before then. I’m sorry, Ella. I’ve got to go.”
There was nothing left to say—or more like nothing she was willing to say at this point. She knew Ella was worried and frustrated, but her sister was smart and had a good head on her shoulders. She’d figure out how to manage their mother.
As Meghan disconnected the call her concern over her family was replaced by nagging doubts about the cowboy returning for her. She glanced down at the new-looking phone with a photo of a horse on the display. Surely he wouldn’t toss aside his phone with his photos and numbers inside?
He’d be back…
But then again she’d put her faith in Harold and look where that had gotten her. Pregnant and alone. Her hand moved to spread across her abdomen. She’d barely come to terms with the fact there was a baby growing inside her, relying on her. And she’d already made such a blunder of things.
CHAPTER TWO
CASH ARRIVED AT the church in time to witness the groom taking his moment in the spotlight, blaming everything on Meg in order to gain the public’s sympathy.
The nerve of the man amazed Cash. Meg was distraught to the point of being physically ill, and here was Harold posing for pictures. His bride might have walked out on him, but Harold sure didn’t look like the injured party. A niggling feeling told him there was more to this story than the bride getting cold feet.
Ten minutes passed before he pried Gram away from consoling the groom’s family and ushered her to his pickup. At last they hit the road. Gram insisted on regaling him with the tale of how the bride ran out of the church without explanation and all the wild speculations. Cash let her talk. All too soon she would learn the facts for herself.
When he reached the two-lane highway he had only one mission—to tramp the accelerator and get back to the sickly bride. By now she must think he’d forgotten her.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
“Cash, slow down,” Gram protested. “I don’t know what you’re in such an all-fired-up rush for. There’s nothing at the Tumbling Weed that can’t wait.”
“It’s not the ranch I’m worried about.”
He could feel his grandmother’s pointed gaze. “You aren’t in some kind of trouble again, are you?”
He sighed, hating how his past clung to him tighter than wet denim. “Not like you’re thinking.”
He glanced down at the speedometer, finding he was well beyond the limit. He eased his boot up on the accelerator. As his speed decreased his anxiety rose. It was bad enough having to leave Meg alone, but when she didn’t feel well it had to be awful for her.
At last he flipped on his turn signal and pulled off the road.
“What are we stopping for? Is there something wrong with the truck? I told you we should have gassed up before leaving town.”
“The truck’s fine.”
“Then why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere? Cash, have you lost your mind?”
“Wait here.” He jumped out of the truck and rushed over to the rock.
Meg wasn’t there. His chest clenched. What had happened to her? He hadn’t seen any sign of her walking back to town. Had someone picked her up? The thought made him uneasy.
“Meg!” He turned in a circle. “Meg, where are you?” At last he spotted her, on the other side of the road. She gathered up her dirty dress and rushed across the road. “What in the world were you doing?”