by Donna Alward
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 the best there is,” Meg answered, knowing how Clay valued his foreman. “But no one said it was easy. There are lots of operations struggling right now.” She let out a breath. It was the perfect way to lead into what she wanted to talk to him about.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to Dawson about before the next meeting,” he said.
“You mean us,” she said faintly, rocking in the saddle as Calico started up over a knoll.
“You?”
He sounded so surprised Meg clamped her mouth shut. As close as Clay was to her family, he didn’t seem to know about the troubles the Briggs’s were having. It wasn’t as bad as some, that’s for sure. But it was enough that Meg had trouble sleeping at night wondering how they were going to make it through. If they had a bad year, the results could be devastating to their place.
She reached up and tugged her hat further over her ears.
“So what did you want to show me?”
She reined in and looked down the hill at the ranch. “That,” she said, lifting her voice above the rising wind.
“It’s your place. So?”
The barns were spread out over the farmyard, machinery lined up precisely, fences in good repair. Nothing, she knew, was wasted or neglected. “Dawson has done a good job, hasn’t he?”
“He’s a good rancher.”
“It’s a two-man ranch, though, don’t you think?”
“Same as mine, I suppose. Though I’ve got Pete and some hired help in the summer.”
“We don’t.”
Meg turned her back to the view and looked earnestly at Clay. “For a while I was the second man, remember?”
“And in the summers you did the circuit.”
“That’s right,” she replied, remembering the long days of travel and the rush of competing in rodeos as a barrel racer. Clay was watching her closely. She wanted to share her idea with someone who could see the potential in it rather than just seeing reasons why not. “Calico and I competed. And the money I made paid my expenses and the rest went back into the ranch.”
“Are you saying you want to start racing again?”
Meg thought of the rows of trophies she’d earned over the years. It had been fun and challenging and she’d been good at it. But now she wanted more. To put down roots instead of the constant travel during the season. To make her mark in a different, long-lasting way. She wanted to build something, watch it flourish, and the thrill of winning did have an expiry date.
“Not exactly. I want to do something else, Clay. More than help with the chores and hope for the best, you know?”
She looked up at him, wanting him to understand. “I love this place. It’s mine, too, as much as it is Dawson’s. It’s in here.” She pressed her right hand to her heart. “But yeah, we’re struggling. And the whole damn family is treating me with kid gloves and won’t even listen to my ideas!”
The last part came out with a little more vitriol than she expected and she saw Clay’s lips twitch.
“Meg.” His tone was patronizing and it set her teeth on edge. “You’ve only just come home. Maybe you need to give it time. Wait until you’re better.”
That was what her mother had said. And her dad. And Dawson. She glared up at him. She had expected a better response from everyone, and they kept letting her down. Meg had always been the reliable one. Always the one who took on the burdens of the family and held things together. She knew that and accepted it. Everyone thought she’d run away to Calgary for treatment but she’d really gone because it was best for the family. All she was trying to do was make things better again, to make up for the time she’d been gone. She knew she’d left them in a bind and carried her own bit of guilt about it, even as she knew there was nothing she could have done to prevent it. “I am better,” she insisted. “I thought talking to you might be different. I thought you’d understand, but I guess not.” She gave the reins a jerk and wheeled away, pushing Calico into a canter over the frozen prairie.
She heard his shout behind her but the wind was in her face now and it felt glorious. They could all go hang as far as she was concerned! Hooves pounded on the solid ground, sending up a familiar rhythm. Right now she felt as if she could ride for days. The air burned deliciously in her lungs. She’d needed this so badly.
Clay blew out a breath of frustration as Megan took off. Why did she take everything he said in the wrong way? He urged Clover to hurry the pace as they followed Meg and Calico up over the butte. He’d only wanted her to try looking at it from her family’s side. They were afraid for her.
Heck, he was afraid for her. She looked wonderful, said all the right assurances. But he still had his doubts that everything would be as okay as she insisted. And that niggling bit of doubt scared the hell out of him.
He drew up alongside of Calico and rather than try to stop her, he kept pace. Megan was the most stubborn woman he knew—next to his aunt Stacy—and he knew sometimes it was better to ride out a storm rather than trying to beat it back. Something warm and satisfying expanded inside him, knowing she was an arm’s length away, her body moving in unison with his. She looked over once and he met her gaze. Her chocolatey eyes glittered at him with devilment. She flashed a challenge of a smile and gave Calico a little nudge to ease her a nose ahead.
He let her take the lead. This time. Because she seemed to need it.
When the horses began to get winded, Meg slowed, bringing them back to a walk. He caught up with her and reined in, the horses’ strides matching each other. “Feel better?” he asked mildly.
“Much,” she said.
She was actually glowing from the physical exertion, her cheeks with pink roses and her eyes dancing beneath the ugly hat. She looked irresistible, all color and snap. Clay frowned. Irresistible? Megan? Uh-uh. She was his best friend’s little sister. And his friend, too. Meg had always seemed to be able to read him better than anyone. They had known each other so long that defining their relationship was difficult. One distinction was easy enough, though—platonic. Getting involved with Megan Briggs would be messy—Dawson would have his head. Add in the other baggage she brought to the table and he was ready to ride in the other direction—fast. He quickly dismissed the thought.
“I don’t think it was just the horses who needed to get out,” he observed. “You’re wound tighter than a spring. I used to be able to read you like a book. Not anymore. There’s too much going on in your head, isn’t there?”
“I suppose s
o. Sometimes I don’t know what I’m feeling or thinking. And I’m not good at sitting and waiting.”
“Never have been.” He chuckled. “Ever.”
“Which is probably why I’m feeling so frustrated. I need to do something, Clay.”
Something seemed to be pulling them together. She trusted him, he realized with surprise. She was confiding in him and he was shocked and a little bit honored considering how they’d left things all those months ago. She’d come to him to share her plans and he’d reacted like everyone else—he hadn’t even given her the courtesy of listening.
He could listen now—it wasn’t much to ask. He hadn’t exactly been supportive up till now. And he’d be honest with her. She would hate for him to be anything else.
“Then tell me your plans,” he said as his mare blew out a grand breath and shook her mane, making the bridle hardware jingle.
“You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“So what? I’ve thought that for years.”
She threw him a “ha-ha, very funny” look and gave Calico’s neck a rub. “Part of the reason I went away for my treatment was so that I wouldn’t be a burden to anyone. You know that, right? This place has always provided for us, but we’ve all had to work, even more so since Dad’s back went. It was bad enough losing me from the work force when we were already running short. But the added load of caring for me, driving me back and forth to Calgary for treatment, the worry…Mom has enough of that with Dad’s appointments. I couldn’t ask her to take that on. She’s already had to take a job to help with the household expenses, and she somehow juggles everything else, too.”
He hadn’t realized Linda’s job was to bring in much needed income. She’d laughed it away when she started working at Papa’s Pizza, insisting it was the perfect antidote to cabin fever now that the kids were grown. “Surely it was more expensive for you to live in Calgary than drive back and forth.”
“I stayed with a friend in Springbank. She gave me a job in exchange for room and board. When I was well enough, I worked. The weeks that were too hard, I took it easy.” Meg looked up at him, her expression surprisingly open. “Rodeo girls look after each other,” she said simply. “Anna and her family were a godsend. Because of their generosity, none of my treatment arrangements cost Mom and Dad a cent.”
Clay sat back in the saddle. She’d taken all that on, and her illness as well. “Meg.”
“No, don’t. I know what you’re going to say. Losing a ranch hand hit us hard enough, Clay. I couldn’t drain the family resources more than that. I just found another way.”
He felt doubly guilty for all the things he’d said to her that day, all the things he’d accused her of. “It’s that bad for you? But Dawson never let on.”
“We’re not going bankrupt, don’t look so alarmed,” she said, looking over the fields that seemed to stretch right to the foot of the Rockies miles away. “But we need something more to take us from scraping by to breathing easily.”
Clay nodded. “Lots of farmers facing the same choices. What do you have in mind? Alternative stock? Some ranchers I know are turning to sheep.”
Meg laughed. “Sheep are so not my thing. Cute and all but no. And no alpacas, either,” she added with a smile. “No, what I want is something all my own. Something I can build and nurture and enjoy.” She locked her gaze with his and he felt a weird sense of unity and rightness in her sharing her hopes with him. “I’m an equine girl at heart, you know that. I want to expand the stable so we can board horses, and I want to build an indoor ring so I can give lessons.”
Clay blew out a breath. Expanding didn’t come cheaply. Or quickly. He measured his words, not wanting to discourage but not wanting to give her false hopes, either. “That’s a big undertaking.”
“Life’s short, Clay. I love this farm and I want to see it succeed. Can’t I do that while fulfilling dreams of my own?”
The Chinook arch crept across the sky, coming closer, warming the air by degrees. They sat silently, watching the unique formation, feeling the change in the air for several minutes.
“Whatever you’re thinking, just say it, Clay.”
He didn’t look at her, just sat straight in the saddle and stared ahead. How could he explain what he was feeling in the wake of her words? He was a neighbor. Their families were friends. It didn’t seem right that his heart should clench so painfully when she said things like “Life’s short.”
“Does that mean you’re worried about…” He felt like an utter coward not saying the word. Damn it, he was getting too invested already. He should have stayed home this morning. Out of her business. He certainly had enough of his own to keep him occupied. “Reoccurrence?”
She said the word so plainly it jarred him and he nodded, the brim of his black hat bobbing up and down, his lips set in a grim line.
“I’d be a liar if I said it doesn’t cross my mind. But it is not how I choose to live—waiting. Maybe that’s why this is so important to me. Life is happening now, and I don’t want to miss it.”
It had been difficult hearing the news the first time, but even worse now, having eyes wide-open to the possibility that she might go through this again and maybe she wouldn’t win the second time around. He’d watched his father battle lung cancer, watched him in daily pain until the end, and he was pretty sure he couldn’t go through something like that again with someone he cared about.
Then he thought about his mother, and how she’d walked out on both of them, leaving Aunt Stacy to pick up the slack. Mom had been afraid, too, but she’d run away rather than staying and fighting. For weeks, a young and trusting Clay had been certain that if he wished hard enough, believed long enough, it would all be okay. His mother would come home and his dad would be well again.
When Meg had broken the news of her illness he’d automatically been thrown back to that horrible time. It had brought back so many feelings he’d tried to forget. He had accused her of running rather than realizing the truth—that she was trying to protect those she loved.
But he didn’t need protecting, and there was no them. There was just a family friend looking at him right now, asking for advice, giving him a level of respect he wasn’t sure he deserved.
“Clay, you and Stacy kept the Gregory place going all these years. You played hard but you worked hard, too, and you’re the best rancher I know. You have always been brutally honest with me.”
He felt his cheeks heat. He didn’t miss the “brutally” part and he knew he’d been too hard on her at times.
“You’re the one person I can trust to give me an honest opinion. So what do you think? Can I pull it off?” She looked at him hopefully.
Clay shrugged, not wanting to burst her bubble but needing to impress upon her the challenges she’d face. “The work? You could handle that in your sleep,” he said confidently. “I have no doubts about that. But there’s more to it. Who will your clients be? Will there be enough to make the business self-sustaining? How will you pay for the expansion?” He paused before he dropped what he knew would feel like an anvil on Megan’s hopes. “What happens if you get sick again? Who’ll run it? Keep it paying for itself?”
He saw her swallow and she turned her head away. “I am crazy then.”
“Not crazy.” He reached over and grabbed her arm through her heavy coat. “I didn’t say it was a bad idea, or impossible. There’s a lot of sense in it. It’s just not an easy idea and there are things to think about before you move ahead.”
Meg’s shoulders slumped as she turned her horse toward home. He was an idiot. He should have at least expressed some excitement or said something positive before raining on her parade. “At least you listened,” she said darkly as they trudged along. “Mom and Dad wouldn’t hear any of it.”
“They’re just afraid. They’ve only just got you back.”
“They’re trying to put me in a bubble.”
“They love you and don’t want to lose you. So try again. I’ve never known you to quit anyth
ing you really wanted.”
“For what it’s worth, I was thinking that there’d be plenty of business from the new developments going in. Professional families whose kids want to take lessons. Ask daddy for a pony. You know how it is.”
He smiled to himself. Good, she wasn’t giving up. “You could be right.”
They went along for a few more minutes. The wind was really starting to blow now, stirring up flecks of snow and dirt. Meg turned up the collar of her coat.
“It’s the money,” she finally said into the awkward silence. “That’s why I haven’t pushed the issue. I haven’t got that kind of capital, obviously. I’ll have to go to the bank for it. And the debt is what keeps stopping me up. Mom and Dad can’t carry the load.” She sighed. “I told you it was foolish.”
“Keep thinking about it. You’ll come up with a way,” he encouraged. “Meg, for God’s sake, you beat your illness. You can do anything you set your mind to. Maybe you just need to think outside the box.”
The horses sensed the barn was near and picked up their pace a little.
“You were a big help,” she acknowledged. “Like I said, no one else would even listen.”
“That’s what friends do.” Friends, he reminded himself. That was the only reason he was feeling so protective of her. So anxious. In Larch Valley friends looked after each other.
Except they didn’t always, Clay thought. He certainly hadn’t listened to her last year when she’d needed him so very badly. He had closed his heart and his mind to their friendship and “would you believe me if I said I was sorry” didn’t quite cut it as far as apologies went.
As they entered the yard, they noticed that both Meg’s car and the farm truck were parked next to the house. “Mom and Dad are back from the doctor.” She smiled up at Clay. “He saw a specialist about an operation that will help his back and ease the constant pain. Dawson’s home, too. You might as well come in and have some cake and talk about whatever it is you really came to talk about.”
