gathered her wits, bending over to pick up her phone that, of course, started ringing again. She glanced at the call display. Her sister.
Tabitha tucked it in her pocket, letting it ring as she gingerly made her way through the thick grass of the ditch around the back of the truck, grimacing in pain.
Taking another deep breath, she lifted her chin and walked over to where Morgan still knelt by his son, talking to him.
“You sure you’re okay?” Morgan asked again, his hands resting on the boy’s thin shoulders.
“I’m fine.” The boy wasn’t looking at Morgan; instead he was watching Tabitha as she joined them.
Yeah, I know. I probably look like the bad side of a train wreck, she thought, delicately testing her cheekbone to see if there was any blood.
Then Morgan sensed her presence and turned, his hand resting on his son’s shoulder in a protective motion. Stubble shaded his cheeks. His brown hair, as thick as ever, curled over his forehead. His blue T-shirt stretched over broad shoulders tucked into blue jeans hanging low on his hips.
He still wore cowboy boots, but the deep furrow between his eyebrows was new as was the length of his hair. He used to wear it military short. But now it hung over his collar.
He had grown more handsome over time, and in spite of her steady self-talk, Tabitha’s heart twisted at the sight of his familiar, and once-loved, face.
She knew the second he recognized her. His steel-gray eyes grew cold as ice and he clenched his jaw.
“Hey, Tabitha.” His voice was curt. Harsh.
The anger in his expression hurt her more than she thought it could.
“Hey, Morgan.” She didn’t add “good to see you” because it wasn’t that good to see him.
“You almost hit my son.”
He ground out the words, his voice gruff. Well, nothing like getting directly to the point, which shouldn’t surprise her. She knew seeing him again wouldn’t be a happy reunion of old high school friends.
The last time she’d talked to him was on the phone when she told him she was breaking up with him. He’d asked for a reason. All she would tell him was that she was over him, even as her heart and soul cried out a protest at the lies she spun.
Sure, their relationship had been a high school romance, but their feelings for each other had been deep and strong enough that they’d made plans for their wedding.
But on that horrible day she had to push all that aside. Had to prove to him that she wasn’t the girl for him and that she had changed her mind about the two of them.
He tried reasoning with her but she wouldn’t budge. And she couldn’t tell him why. It was for his sake, she had told herself. She was doing it for him.
Then packed up and left town.
They hadn’t spoken to or seen each other since.
Tabitha’s phone rang again. She pulled it out and hit Decline. She’d have to call Leanne once she got to town to find out what her sister needed so badly.
“Were you talking on your phone while you were driving?” His words held the sting of accusation.
Tabitha shook her head. Mistake. Her cheek throbbed and she lifted her hand to touch it. It felt warm. It was probably already changing color.
“No.” She left it at that. She’d learned too many times in her life that the more she talked, the more trouble she got into.
Case in point: Morgan’s mother, who had been her high school teacher and who thought Tabitha was an unsuitable match for her vet-school-headed son. Who had warned lowly Tabitha Rennie, high school dropout, away from Morgan Walsh. He was too good for her, Mrs. Walsh had told her, and Tabitha knew it was true.
Tabitha held Morgan’s gaze, then shifted her scrutiny to his son, who watched her with interest.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked Nathan.
He nodded, staring at her as if trying to figure out who she was.
“Good. And your dog is okay?”
Nathan nodded.
“Also good. Glad we don’t have to bring you to the hospital or the dog to the vet. Though your dad is a vet, so maybe he could fix it himself. I usually work at the vet clinic, but not today.” She caught herself, blaming her chatter on nerves. She was tempted to ask Morgan why he hadn’t started work today, like she had been told, but figured that was none of her business.
So she gave the boy a semblance of a smile, then took a step back.
“Do you need a hand getting your truck out?” he asked.
Frankly, given his attitude toward her, she was surprised he offered. But country manners always took precedence over personal feelings when you lived in the ranching country of Southern Alberta. Houses were far apart and people depended on each other for help.
“No. I should be okay,” she said with more bravado than she felt.
She got into her truck and waited until Morgan and his son walked away from the road, but they didn’t go directly into the house. Instead Morgan stayed by the driveway, watching.
Please, Lord, let me get out of here in one go.
Then she twisted the key in the ignition.
Her truck wasn’t its usual temperamental self and the engine turned over only twice before it caught.
She prayed the whole time she had her foot on the gas, her back tires spinning, tossing mud onto the road and spitting it out beside her. Her pride was on the line and she could use a win.
Finally, her tires caught the gravel, spun again, and then with a lurch she was out. She slammed on the brakes and the truck rocked to a halt.
Thanks for that, Lord, she prayed, feeling foolish that she wasted the Lord’s time with such trivial things.
But it was important to her to not look bad in front of Morgan. A man who once held her heart. A man she had been forced to toss aside.
She put the truck into first gear and drove past Morgan and his son at a sedate speed.
Both of them were still watching her. One with interest, the other with a frown.
Life had just become much more complicated, Tabitha thought as she stepped on the gas and shifted into second. Hopefully she wouldn’t lose her job at the café.
Again.
* * *
So, that was over and done with.
Morgan watched as Tabitha’s truck drove down the road, a plume of dust roiling in its wake. Since he decided to come back to Cedar Ridge, he knew meeting Tabitha was inevitable. When Dr. Waters told him that Tabitha worked as a vet assistant in the clinic some mornings,
