to pull the pieces of herself together. Both times she’d seen Clay since her return, she’d teared up and she didn’t like that one bit. If she couldn’t deal with one annoying rancher, how could she face her friends—the whole town for that matter—with a smile on her face? The last thing she wanted was to break down in public. She had never been a crier, but her emotions seemed harder to control these days. She couldn’t just jump back into the social scene without trusting herself to hold it together first.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. He shifted his weight uncomfortably.
Great. First she’d practically forced him into paying her a compliment, and now he looked like he’d rather be anywhere than standing in her kitchen. “Don’t mind me.” She picked up the towel and folded it neatly to give her hands something to do. Embarrassment crept through her as she tried to explain. Honesty was probably the best approach—as honest as she was comfortable being, anyway.
“The truth is, Clay, I’m working through stuff. I know I’m not the same woman I was a year ago. I look different. I feel different.” She swiped her finger under her eyes, wiping away the rest of the moisture. “Physically … there are some adjustments. Emotionally, too. But I made you uncomfortable and I’m sorry for that.”
Of course she had made him uncomfortable. Talking to Clay about cancer was like chatting to a closed door—words bounced off and there was no response. He avoided the topic whenever he could. When she’d told their circle of friends of the biopsy results, Clay had turned ashen and left the room. Cancer had stolen his father and in a way his mother, too. And if Meg knew anything about Clay from their years of friendship, it was that he handled things in one of two ways—he charmed his way through or put his shoulder to the wheel.
Since he wasn’t employing his charms, Meg could only assume he was forging ahead, doing what he had to do to make the best of the situation but wearing blinders to everything negative about her illness that bothered him.
Clay’s dark eyes caught hers. “I’m fine.” He paused for a second and then asked, “Is that why you didn’t go to the pub last night? Because you’re working through stuff?”
She’d wanted to go. She’d actually figured out what she was going to wear and everything. But when the time came she’d been utterly exhausted. Even now that her treatment was done, fatigue continued to knock her flat without any notice. The idea of facing everyone for the first time feeling so run-down was too daunting, and besides, convincing them she was all right in such a state was laughable.
Not that she could explain it to Clay. He was already tiptoeing around her, holding himself back. She had to be one hundred percent or people would go around thinking she was sick again.
“I spent the night with Mom,” she answered. “After being gone so long …”
She let the thought hang. Let Clay reach his own conclusions—that she’d caught up on some quality time with her mother. It wasn’t totally untrue.
Today she was feeling much better. She’d done chores and had breakfast and showered. The cake she’d made was nearly cool enough to eat and she still had energy to burn. She might not be ready for a night at the pub, but she was going a little stir crazy being cooped up on the ranch. She needed to get out and do something. No one else would listen to her plans. But maybe Clay would. Clay had fought against the odds himself and was always looking at ways of improving his operation.
Besides, when he left today she wanted him to remember her strong and fit and ambitious. Not with the pity she knew was hiding behind his worried eyes.
“You busy? Do you have time for a ride?”
Clay’s hands came out of his pockets. “A ride?”
“I want to show you something. Besides, Clover and Calico can both use the exercise.”
“I don’t know. I should get back.”
Meg shrugged. “Never mind then. It’s not important.” She was disappointed at his response. Heck, she was disappointed in him if it came down to it. After his apology the other day she’d hoped they’d get back to an easy friendship, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
She expected him to leave but he didn’t move. Instead he watched her with a puzzled look on his face. “I can probably spare an hour or so.”
Meg forced a smile, determined to put her mini breakdown behind her. Despite his recent reticence, she knew Clay was open-minded and fair and would give her an honest opinion. “Great. I’ll put on my coat and meet you in the barn.”
When she joined him, he already had Clover saddled and he was laying a blanket over Calico’s withers. Meg went up to the mare and gave her nose an affectionate rub. “You didn’t waste any time.”
“I knew which saddle was yours.” He gave the saddle a swing and settled it on Calico’s back, reaching for the cinch straps.
Meg reached for a bridle, suddenly realizing how familiar they really were with each other. It was nothing for Clay to walk in here and know the stock and tack as well as his own. For all intents and purposes, he’d been like a part of the family since forever.
That had taken a serious hit when she broke the news about her illness. If he’d truly known her, he never would have judged her so harshly.
And yet she knew that of anyone, he would understand her plans for the future. He felt about his ranch the way she felt about the Briggs place. She put her boot in the stirrup and slid into the saddle—after years of being with Calico it was as familiar and comfortable as an easy chair. This was one thing that hadn’t changed, that wouldn’t change. This was who she was, she realized. And nothing—or no one—would take that away from her. Not ever again.
Full of renewed purpose, she gripped the reins in her gloved hand. “I want to show you something,” she said to Clay, and with a nudge of her heels led the way out of the barn.
The bitter cold from the arctic front was being nudged away by a Chinook arch that was forming to the west. She gave the mare a little kick and they crested the rise. Meg moved fluidly into a trot, loving the feel of being on horseback again. Feeling restless, Calico gave a little kick and Meg laughed out of simple joy.
Clay caught up and she looked over at him appraisingly. Sure, maybe the juvenile crush days were over, but she had to admit he still looked pretty amazing in his black Stetson and jeans. The denim clung to his strong legs and he sat a horse as prettily as she’d ever seen. And he had called her beautiful. Not just now, but before. As beautiful as you ever were, he’d said. He couldn’t possibly know how much of a hit her vanity had taken over the last few months. She never felt womanly or beautiful these days. It gave her badly bruised feminine pride a boost to think that even if he’d never cared for her in that way, he’d at least noticed her on some level.
“Snow’ll be gone by morning,” Clay said as they slowed. “We could use some milder weather.”
“Sure makes calving a lot easier.” She let herself be drawn back to practicalities.
“We lost one yesterday.”
Meg turned to look at him as Calico picked her way along the familiar trail. “Oh, no.”
“It happens. Pete and I did a C-section but it was too late.”
“Pete’s
