Her brows going up a little, Megan looked in the direction the girl had been facing.
Three cowboys stood near the corral. The sun had almost disappeared behind the western mountains, and in the blue-purple light that remained, the men were little more than silhouettes. Hiey could have been cowboys from any place, any time, identifiable by the tilt of their hats and the unique stance caused by wearing pointy-toed boots better suited to a stirrup than the ground.
Then one of them straightened away from the fence and reached up to take off his hat. Even in this light, there was no mistaking the pale color of his hair. That and his size identified him as easily as if he'd been standing under a floodlight.
**That's Gun, isn't it?"
"Could be." Colleen shrugged and turned her back on the scene, making her indifference plain.
Megan glanced from the girl's set face to the taU cowboy, her expression speculative. She'd been here more than a month, and she was no closer to understanding what was going on betwe^i Colleen and Gun than she had been that first day. Colleen still avoided looking at him, rarely spoke to him and continued to
come up with thin excuses for leaving any room he entered. And Gun still looked at her with regret, as if viewing something he'd once valued and then lost.
"What's going on between you and Gun?" she asked bluntly.
Colleen jerked as if Megan had struck her. Her green eyes, so like her brother's, were wide and startled. **I don't know what you mean."
"It's ncMie of my business, of course," Megan said as she turned so that she could lean against the porch railing. She folded her arms across her chest and looked at the younger woman. **But I can't help but notice that you practically run every time Gun comes into sight. And if you can't escape, you avoid looking at him and talking to him."
"I do not," Colleen protested, even as guilty color rose in her cheeks.
**Yes, you do. like I said, it's none of my business." Megan shrugged. "But I've begun to think of you as a friend these last few weeks and I hate to see you so unhappy."
"I think of you as a friend, too. I.. .1 don't have too many of those these days." She rubbed her injured 1^ absently. "It's partly my fault, I guess. After... after I got hurt, I didn't feel much like seeing anybody. I guess I wasn't very tactful about saying so. I really like you," Colleen admitted with a shy smile that went straight to Megan's heart.
"I really like you, too." Acting on impulse, she put her arms around Colleen and gave her a quick hug. She had to blink to clear her vision when she stepped
back. In the light from the porch lamp. Colleen's eyes seemed suspidously bright, too.
''If I didn't like you, I wouldn't poke my nose in where it doesn't belong," Megan said briskly, bringing the conversation back to her original question. "What's going on between you and Gun?"
"Nothing." Colleen's eyes slid past her to where Gun stood with the other two cowboys. Her eyes held more sadness than any nineteen-year-old's had a right to.
"You can tell me to mind my own business and I'll leave you alone, but don't try to tell me there's nothing going on," Megan said sternly.
"It's the truth." Colleen caught Megan's eye. "It's kind of the truth."
"I think thaf s like bemg kind of dead. It's either the truth or it's not, and I'm betting on the not."
She wouldn't have pressed so hard if she hadn't had the feeling that Colleen desperately needed to talk to someone. Kel adored his little sister, and Megan knew he'd move heaven and earth if he thought it would help her, but since he and Gun were friends, maybe Colleen felt awkward about talking to him.
"Colleen, Gim hasn't...I mean, it's not that he ever.. .scared you in any way, is it?" She'd come to know and like Gun, and she couldn't stretch her iniagination to encompass him doing anything to harm any woman, even if she hadn't been his best friend's sister. Still, she felt the question had to be asked.
"Scared me?" Colleen looked puzzled for a moment and then her eyes widened in shock. She took a step back and sank down into a wicker chair, looking
as if she'd just received a body blow. "You think he tried to... that Gun might have..."
**I don't think anything," Megan said carefully. "But if it was something like that, I want you to know that you could tell me about it."
"It wasn't anything like that." There could be no doubting the sincerity behind Colleen's vehement denial. "Gun would never... I mean, he couldn't possibly. .." She broke off, pressing her pahns to her flushed cheeks.
"I had to ask."
"I ... I understand, but it wasn't that. Good grief, even if he'd thought about—which he never would— he knows, everybody knows, Kel would kill anybody who hurt me."
"I figured as much." Kel was very protective of what was his, Megan thought a little wistfully. She'd have given a great deal to be able to think that he considered her his for more than just the summer.
"If s nothing Gun did," Colleen said slowly. "He's been Kel's friend for as long as I can remember. His mother died when he was little, and Gun and his father, they never got along, so Gun used to spend a lot of time here. He was like another brother to me." The way her eyes shifted and the flush that came up in her cheeks made Megan suspect that "brother" didn't quite describe Gun's place in the girl's heart but she nodded as if accepting the statement at face value. "It's my fault that we're not friends anymore. I.. .said things, terrible things."
"Friendships are pretty resilient," Megan said gently. "Maybe—"
But Colleen was already shaking her head. "I couldn't ask him to forgive me. I can't even forgive myself."
"Why don't you tell me what happened?"
Colleen hesitated a moment before speaking. ''Gun was with me when I got hurt.''
Megan was surprised. It had never occurred to her that Colleen's avoidance of Gun had anything to do with her injury.
"We'd already had some snow but there was a Chinook right after New Year's and most of the snow had melted. The temperature dropped almost immediately but it didn't snow. I hadn't gone back to school yet and I wanted to get out of the house. Kel was busy but he didn't want me going out alone so Gun said he'd go riding with me." Her eyes looked through Megan and into the past.
"I took my mare out. Spooky. I'd raised her and trained her myself. We did some barrel racing last summer. She had...she had the softest mouth and she could turn on a dime and give back nine cents change."
Colleen's hands twisted together in her lap, her voice choked with emotion. Megan felt guilty about having forced her to relive what was obviously a very painful time.
**Gun said we might as well check on a couple of stock tanks while we were curing my cabin fever. It was cold and the footing wasn't the best. The snow had melted into mud and then, when the temperature dropped, the top layer of mud froze.
**Spooky was full of energy after being cooped up in the bam and she wanted to run but the ground was too muddy. We'd checked one stock tank and were on our way to look at another one when Spooky acted up, prancing and bobbing her head. She just wanted to run." Colleen's voice broke but she seemed oblivious to the tear that slid down her pale cheek.
"What happened?"
"She slipped. We were on the edge of a wash but it would have been all right if the ground hadn't been so slick. She went ova: the edge."
"And you went with her."
"I didn't kick free fast enough. It wasn't a deep wash but she fell so hard. I was still dazed when Gun got to us. My leg was trapped and Spooky... Spooky was trying to get up. She calmed when Gun spoke to her but she'd... she'd broken her leg. I could see how bad it was but I wouldn't believe it. I guess I was in shock. I couldn't even feel my own leg." She rubbed her fingers over her left leg as if soothing a deep ache.
"Gun...Gun had a gun with him. Some of the hands carry them when they're out on the range. He ... he did what he had to do." She shook her head as if to clear the echo of the shot from her ears.
Megan wiped away the dampness on her own cheeks and moved to sit in
the glider that hung near Colleen's chair, reaching over to take one of the girl's hands in hers. Colleen's fingers clung to her as if grateful for the contact.
"He didn't have any choice," she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. "I know that. I think.
even then, I knew it. But I screamed at him. I called him a murderer."
**You were hurt. You'd just lost a friend. I'm sure Gun knew you didn't mean it."
**I did mean it at the time. I hated him right then."
**That's not so hard to understand. I can't believe he'd hold it against you all these months later."
**Maybe not, but there's more. Gun pulled me free. My leg was pretty bad but I wasn't feeling it yet. It was too cold for him to risk leaving me there while he went for help so he used his shirt and a couple of old boards he found and immobilized my leg as best he could. And then he put me on his horse and brought me home. I passed out before we got here."
"I'm not surprised," Megan said dryly, thinking of the kind of pain she must have endured. Her fingers tightened over Colleen's, offering sympathy.
"When Gun came to visit me in the hospital, they'd just told me how bad my leg was. I overheard one of the nurses say it was a pity I'd always limp. When I saw Gun, I was boiling inside with fear and anger. I blamed him for the accident and Spooky's death and said it was his fault that my 1^ was such a mess. I.. .1 told him I'd never forgive him for making me a cripple," she finished in a shamed whisper.
Megan was silent a moment, digesting the story Colleen had told her. She glanced toward the corral. It was dark now, but there was enough of a moon for | her to make out Gun's tall figure. He was alone, his arms on the top rail of the fence as he stared into the darkness. She thought of the impression she'd had
that there was something haunting him, that he carried a loneliness deep inside himsdf .
''Do you blame him?" she asked after a moment. "Do you think it was his fault?"
"Of course not!" Colleen sounded shocked. "I was just hurt and scared and I lashed out at him, but I knew, even then, that it wasn't his fault. If it hadn't been for Gun, I'd have died."
"Did you tell him that?"
Colleen shook her head, lowering her eyes to her fingers, which were twisted together in her lap. "I've been so ashamed of the way I acted, I can't even look Gun in the eye. He must despise me."
Megan shook her head, remembering the look in Gun's eyes when Colleen left the room to avoid him. "I don't think so."
"I don't see how he could help it."
"Maybe he thinks you really do blame him for the accident. Maybe he thinks you avoid him because you hold him to blame for it."
"He couldn't think that." Colleen shook her head in denial. "He knows it wasn't his fault."
"Maybe. But does he know you know that? You never told him you knew you were wrong."
"But he must know," Colleen protested.
"How?"
"Well, because... because he just has to know."
"How?" Megan repeated, gentle but implacable.
"I ... I don't know " Colleen's voice trailed off
in a whisper.
"Maybe you should tell him," Megan suggested quietly. "Maybe you owe him that much," she added, forestalling the protest she saw in Colleen's eyes.
Colleen looked past her, and Megan didn't have to turn to know that Gun was still standing by the corral. The look in the girl's eyes, half wistful, half scared, made it obvious.
"What would I say?" The question was asked of herself more than Megan, but Megan chose to answer it anjnvay.
"You'll find the right words."
She certainly hoped she hadn't made a huge mistake, Megan thought as she watched Colleen cross the yard to where Gun stood. The girl's awkward limp was a reminds that she'd aheady suffered more than most people twice her age.
What if she'd been wrong about Gun? Megan chewed on her lower lip as Colleen stopped a little way behind him. She must have said something, because the tall figure turned away from the fence, and Megan didn't think it was her imagination that made the movement look startled. The two of them stood there for a moment, and Megan held her breath. Gun moved away from the fence, and he and Colleen disappeared into the deep shadow cast by the bam.
Megan relaxed, allowing the pent-up breath to escape. At least he hadn't rejected her out of hand. If they'd just talk to each other, she was sure they could work things out.
A burst of laughter drifted up from the bunk-house, and somewhere far away a coyote yipped, the sound escalating into a mournful howl. It was one of
Mean's favorite times of day. She was still caught off guard by the utter stiUness of the Wyoming nights, by the thick darkness of the sky and the brilliance of the stars strewn across it.
She pushed her toe against the floor and set the gHder in motion. For the first time since she'd left her grandparents' farm, Megan felt as if she'd found a place she could stay. This place spoke to her in a way no other place ever had. There was a stark beauty to the land that seemed to feed something in her soul.
At the end of summer, when Grace Cavenaugh reclaimed her job, Megan thought she might stay. Not on the Lazy B, of course, unless Kel invited her to do so, and it was dangerous to let herself even consider that possibility.
"Is that Gun with Colleen?"
Megan had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't heard Kel's approach until he spoke. She jumped slightly, sending a quick shiver through the glider. Turning her head, she saw him standing just inside the screen, which explained why she hadn't heard the door open. He pushed the door open and stepped out onto the porch, his eyes looking past her.
He was wearing a pair of clean but faded jeans and a black T-shirt that molded every muscle of his shoulders. He'd exchanged boots for a pair of soft-soled moccasins. With his dark hair, tanned skin and with the lamp casting angled shadows across his face, he looked as much Indian as cowboy. From there, it was a relatively short step to wondering what he'd look like wearing a breechclout.
"Is that Gun with Colleen?" Kel asked again, interrupting the lascivious turn her thoughts had taken.
Megan followed his gaze and saw the two figures who'd emerged from the shadow of the bam and were making their way slowly toward the house. Gun's arm was slung around the girl's shoulders, his long stride slowed to accommodate her awkward gait.
"That's Gun with Colleen," Megan confirmed, feeling her heart swell with pleasure and a healthy dollop of relief. If she'd been wrong about Gun's reaction ... But she hadn't been, and this had proved to be one of those rare occasions when a httle meddling was a good thing. Not that she'd really done anything ...
"What did you do?" Kel's question made her flush a little, but she didn't pretend not to know what he meant.
"Not much, really. Colleen and I talked and I suggested that she might want to talk to Gun."
Kel gave her a disbeUeving look. "After six months of her acting like a scared rabbit aroimd him, that's all it took?"
"I think the time was right."
Kel sat down on the glider, angling his long body so that his knee just brushed hers. Megan knew she had it pretty bad when even that casual touch sent a tingle of awareness up her spine.
"You've been good for Colleen," he said. "I think she needed a friend."
"So did I," Megan said quietly.
Gun and Colleen reached the porch just then, and Kel turned to speak to Gun, looking as if there was
nothing extraordinary about seeing his best f rioid and his little sister walking together.
Sitting there, with the glider moving idly beneath him and Mean's knee just brushing his, Kel was aware of a feeling of lazy contentment, a vague sense of peace. Through the back of his mind drifted the thought that Colleen wasn't the only one M^an had been good for. But he shied away from considering that idea too closely.
Chapter 9
1 he sun shone down out of a pale blue August sky. Megan straightened from where she'd been crouched between the rows of green beans an
d arched her back to stretch the cramped muscles. Closing her eyes, she turned her face so the sun could find its way under the brim of the bright red baseball cap she wore. She savored the feel of its heat pouring over her. It wouldn't be all that long before winter made this kind of warmth a distant memory.
Megan shivered, her mood of sun worship abruptly spoiled. Opening her eyes, she stared down the row of beans, twined up head-high trelUses on either side of her. The big kitchen garden was one of her favorite places on the ranch. She enjoyed all of it, but she'd watched with particular delight the growth of this neat green tunnel, tracking the progress of the bean plants up the web of strings stretched between sturdy poles.
They'd started out as ankle-high streaks of green, the tiny plants looking somewhat ridiculous in comparison to the tall trellis they were expected to cover. But cover it they had.
Spotting a bean she'd missed, she reached out and pulled it free with a quick twist of the wrist. Zeke, the bunkhouse cook, had taken great pains to show her the right way to pick a string bean, a skill he seemed to think took some practice to master. Megan had listened and watched, giving the lesson the attention he clearly felt it deserved. She had come to like the crusty old buzzard, though she couldn't have said just why.
Instead of dropping the bean into the enamel pot at her feet, Megan nipped the stem end off with the edge of her thumbnail and bit into the crisp, sun-warmed flesh. From where she stood, she could see the ranch house, perfectly framed by the green walls on either side of her. It was a beautiful picture. The house looked solid, as if it had been here a long time and had every intention of being here a great deal longer.
Megan sighed and reached out to twist another bean from the plant, dropping it absently into the bowl at her feet. The house had good reason to be confident of its place, she thought whimsically. Unfortunately, she didn't.
Grace Cavenaugh's daughter had been delivered of a healthy baby girl three weeks ago. The new grandmother was staying on to help her daughter get on her feet. She hadn't mentioned just how much longer she expected to be away from the Lazy B, but Megan doubted it would be more than two or three weeks at most. Then Grade would return to her job.
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