annoying, insistent tears pushed against Megan’s control at Rory’s consideration for his bride. “He’s been so good for her,” she murmured. Then, to her embarrassment, her eyes filled with tears, too many to simply blink away.
Kyle moved in front of her, concealing her from other curious eyes. His warmth surrounded her, oddly comforting but disturbing, too. She was aware of him, deep in her bones, in a way she didn’t recall being aware of a man. It added to the welter of emotions that ruffled the even tenor of the evening.
“Does that bother you?” he asked, his harsh tones at odds with his kind actions.
Megan stared up at him.
“Did you want Rory for yourself?”
Her mouth dropped open, then she shook her head and managed a true smile. “I want the bride and groom to have all the happiness they deserve. I wish them the best.”
He looked skeptical for a second, then shrugged. “How do we announce their departure?”
“We pass out the bags of birdseed.” She slipped around his tall, lithe frame and pointed to a side table.
He helped her make sure each guest had a little net bag of seed to send the wedded couple off in a shower of blessings. When the bride and groom were gone, others began to take their leave.
Later, when all the guests had left, except for Kate, who’d stayed to help with the cleanup, Megan kicked off her shoes with relief.
“You don’t have to do that,” she scolded Kate, who was washing up a crystal bowl.
“This is the last piece. The caterers did a good job, didn’t they?”
“Lovely.” Lifting her left foot, Megan wiggled her toes. She was much more used to boots than heels—and preferred the more casual wear. Training horses and giving riding lessons was how she made her living. Horses were somewhat predictable. People weren’t.
Kate dried the bowl and put it away. She hung up the dishtowel. “I hate to leave you here alone.”
“I’ll be fine.” Megan managed another smile.
Her cousin wasn’t fooled. Kate was seven years older. As a teenager, she’d often baby-sat Megan and Shannon. She’d been there when Bunny had drowned. Kate had been the rock that held steadfast for Megan then and five years later when her father had died in an automobile accident.
Their grandfather’d had a stroke shortly after his son died and lived the rest of his life in a wheelchair, hardly able to speak. It was all so sad—
Hot tears filled her eyes, startling her.
“Megan?” Kate said, concerned.
Megan grabbed a tissue and mopped her eyes. “I’m feeling terribly sentimental today. The wedding and all. Wasn’t Shannon lovely?”
“Yes. Rory has been good for her.”
Megan nodded.
“I can spend the night,” Kate offered. “Jess took the children home. I have my car here.”
Kate had brought over the roses that filled every vase in the house. The family green thumb belonged to her.
“Actually I prefer the quiet. It’s been so hectic lately, I’m looking forward to not feeling compelled to talk to anyone or be social. Besides, I’m going out to check on a mare as soon as I change. If she’s foaling, I’ll be in the stable the rest of the night. You go home and take care of your family. You’ve done enough here today. Shoo.”
“Okay,” Kate agreed. “Come over for dinner tomorrow night. The guys have promised us fresh fish.”
Megan had to decline. “I have late classes on Mondays.” She walked her cousin to the driveway and waved her off.
It wasn’t until Kate’s taillights disappeared that she felt the loneliness close in on her once more. She stood at the top of the stairs, on the way to her bedroom, and listened to the silence of the old mansion that had sheltered several generations of Windoms.
Their grandfather, the family patriarch, had died during the spring, which was why Shannon had postponed the wedding until June. Now Megan was totally alone in the family homestead. It gave her an odd, unsettled feeling.
Like being the last of her kind.
Which wasn’t true in the least. She had her two cousins, who’d been her friends and mentors all her life. She had her uncle, plus the two new cousins, Jeremy and Amanda. She knew everyone in Wind River, population one thousand, and the county. Besides her cousins and their families, other ranchers lived around the lake and along the county road. She wasn’t alone, not at all.
After changing to a shirt, jeans and boots, she did go to the stable. The light flickered when she turned it on. If the electricity was going to go out, she’d better check the flashlight and fill the oil lantern. After doing so, she looked in on the mother-to-be.
The mare slept peacefully, waking only when Megan leaned over the stall. The horse rose and came to Megan, blowing gently into her ear and reminding her of the way a lover might tease during their lovemaking.
An image formed in her inner vision. Kyle Herriot. Now that her cousin was wed to his best friend, would she be forced to endure his company often?
Rather than recoiling from the idea, she studied it from several angles, trying to assess her own reactions.
The past wasn’t his fault. Nor was it hers. It was just there, a barrier as big as a boulder field laid down by the glaciers that had moved through these parts thousands of years ago.
Her grandfather had hated the Herriots because his fiancée had run away from him only days before the wedding and eloped with Sebastian “Sonny” Herriot instead. Megan wondered what had caused the flight.
A neighboring woman had once said her grandfather’d had a terrible temper during his youth, that he and his fiancée had had a fierce quarrel over her brother, who was in jail for cattle-rustling and needed a lawyer. Grandfather had refused to help. Megan supposed Kyle’s grandfather had supplied the necessary funds.
Sad, what people do to their lives.
The hot rush of tears assailed her again. She hugged the mare and pressed her face into the rough mane, then drew away. “Go back to sleep, love.”
Honestly, if weddings affected her this much, she was going to have to swear off attending them. She smiled, but the odd tumult inside didn’t let up.
A warm, furry body wrapped itself around Megan’s legs. Tabby dropped a mouse at Megan’s feet.
“Thanks,” she said wryly, bending down to pat the cat. “I think I’ll let you keep the mouse. I hope this was the only one.”
Satisfied that all was well here, she flicked out the light and headed for the house. On the deserted patio, she paused, feeling the rush of overwhelming emotion again.
Her father had wept here, alone in the night, for the wife he’d lost.
Megan
