by Lori Wilde
Ellie said, “I heard a news report about a gonzo journalist who was so intent on getting a story that he refused to follow the rules and almost got the team he was embedded with killed. Was that you?”
Meg had heard the same news report, even though the journalist hadn’t been identified. She’d wondered at the time if it was Grant. He’d never been much of a rule follower.
Grant’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He guffawed. Quickly sidestepped Ellie’s question with a quip to Brady. “Your bride-to-be is a sharp tack. Better be careful where you sit.”
Shane was grinding his teeth so hard that Meg could see his jaw muscles clenching beneath his tanned skin.
Meg eased the tension by proposing a toast to the happy couple and things went smoothly from there, until the party broke up and Grant waylaid her again, dragging her into the shadows. She glanced around for Shane, but he’d already left. So much for a rescue.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Grant said, pulling her into his arms.
Meg pushed back, ducking under his arm, slipping away. “Do you really expect me to take you seriously? I haven’t heard from you in a year and you show up here with an engagement ring? What gives?”
“I missed you.” Grant leaned in for a kiss.
Meg ducked his lips. “And?”
“I’m moving back to Austin.”
“You got fired because of that stunt you pulled in Afghanistan,” she said flatly.
“CNN and I weren’t a good fit.” His smile was glossy glib.
“So you thought you’d just come home and take up where you left off?”
“It’s not like that, Meggers. I missed you. Being away made me realize just how much.”
“Your being away made me realize some things, too.”
“Such as?”
“I’m really glad you didn’t ask me to marry you last year. It would have been a huge mistake.”
“Does that mean you’re turning down my marriage proposal?”
“It does.”
“You’ve met someone else,” he said flatly.
“That’s not why I’m saying no.”
“The fighter pilot.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I saw how you looked at him and I saw how he wanted to pound my face in.”
“Yes, it’s the fighter pilot.”
“He’s not right for you.”
“I know that. But neither are you.”
“You’re going to end up with a broken heart.”
“Most likely.”
“You’re breaking mine,” Grant said.
“No, I’m not. You still have your greatest love.”
“Who’s that?”
“Yourself.”
Grant laughed at that. “Maybe you’re right.”
“We had some good times. Made some nice memories, but we were each other’s starter relationships. There’s no going back. Move forward. You’ll land on your feet, Grant. Of that I am one hundred percent convinced.”
“You sure?” He threaded his thumbs through his belt loops, took on a cocky stance. “I won’t ask a second time.”
She’d once taken his swagger as self-confidence; she now saw it for what it was. Arrogance. Had he gotten worse or had she always been so blind?
“I’m counting on it,” she said and walked away.
* * *
She left Grant, went in search of Shane. She’d planned on telling him how she felt about him once the wedding was over and Brady and Ellie were safely off on their honeymoon in Cabo, but she couldn’t put it off any longer.
Grant had forced her hand.
She had to admit it. She had feelings for Shane. Feelings that weren’t going to go away anytime soon. She was going out on a limb, taking a risk. But she was going to do it anyway. If she didn’t tell him how she felt, she’d spend the rest of her life wondering what if.
No regrets. If he turned her away, painful as it might be, she could live with that. What she couldn’t live with was not knowing.
She went to the bunkhouse bungalow where he was staying through the weekend, knocked softly on the door. “Shane? It’s me, Meg. Are you still awake?”
A few seconds ticked by. It felt like an eternity.
She knocked again. “Shane?”
No answer.
She sighed, sank against the wall. She’d worked up her courage to walk over here and now she had all this unused adrenaline coursing through her body.
Forget about tonight. You’ve got the wedding in the morning. Go to bed. Get a good night’s sleep. You can talk to him after the wedding.
Smart advice. She turned to head back to the main house, started at a movement in the shadows behind her.
Her heart sped up. Had Grant returned?
Shane stepped from the darkness.
Her pulse quickened even more. “Hi.”
“Hello.” His voice was even, noncommittal. “Were you here to see me?”
“I was.” The light summer breeze drifted over them, along with the smell of the honeysuckle that grew along the fencerow.
They moved toward each other simultaneously, searching each other’s faces.
“We never got a chance to talk after . . .” Meg said.
“I know.”
“That thing with the questions and the four-minute eye gazing.”
“Potent.”
“It made me consider whether Brady and Ellie were on to something. They seem so happy.”
“Could just be a self-fulfilling prophesy.”
“Could be.” She bobbed ahead. “But . . .” She gulped, gathered her courage. “I felt something, too. Something powerful. For you.”
He stared at her. Into her. The same way he had in the cellar.
Meg held her breath. She loved him because he was so much larger than life. Whenever he walked into a room heads turned. He was big and commanding and proud. Being with him expanded her; she felt less constricted, more open to possibilities.
The way he took the initiative gave her a thrill, even if it meant she sometimes had to buck him to get what she wanted. Nothing wrong with a spirited debate. It spiced things up. His enthusiasm was infectious, and together they were dynamic.
Electric. She thought of their afternoon together, felt heat rush to her cheeks. She wanted to do that again and again and again.
Forever.
“What?” He said it so softly she barely heard him.
“I think I might be . . . I could be . . .” Did she dare say the words?
Head cocked, he watched her intently.
Meg moistened her lips, splayed a palm against her chest. Do it. You’re here. Now or never. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
He said nothing. Not a word. No smile. No frown. No facial expression at all. Blank. Unreadable. Emotionless. A warrior’s stare.
Meg shivered, regretted starting this, but she’d come too far to back out now. Silence stretched out for millennia. Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she whispered his name. “Shane?”
“I have strong feelings for you, too, Meg,” he said. “But it’s not something I can trust.”
A thick lump of emotion squatted in her throat. “I see.”
“I’m not saying this to hurt you.” Shane’s eyes darkened. “But the truth is you can’t fall in love with someone in a matter of weeks.”
“Why not?”
“Lust, sure. I lusted after you the first day we met. But love? Love is something that takes time. Lots of time.”
Meg rolled her fingernails into her palms, squeezed hard. “So you don’t really believe Ellie and Brady are in love? They’ve only known each other a few months. How long is long enough?”
“I don’t have an answer for that.”
“I see.”
“You’ve got history with Grant. He wants you back. I saw him ask you to marry him. I won’t get in the way of that.”
“I told him no. I don’t want Grant. I want you.”
&nbs
p; “You don’t even know me,” he said harshly.
His words were a punch to the gut. She took it, absorbed it. “I know you’re afraid of what you’re feeling. Ellie told me you’d never been in love.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I can’t fall in love. Maybe I’m not genetically built to fall in love.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. For a brave guy, Shane Freemont, you sure are scared of me.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I am.”
“You know the definition of courage? Feeling the fear and doing it anyway. Jump with me, Shane. Let’s take a chance on us. What’s wrong with exploring this? Taking our time. See where it goes.”
He shook his head. “It would be a long-distance relationship. Those are hard to maintain.”
“So you’re telling me in your book it’s better to have never loved at all than take a risk on loving and losing?”
“Meg, I don’t believe your feelings are real. We were in a forced situation. We played some silly game . . .”
“And by damn if we didn’t fall for each other.”
“That’s what I’m saying. It’s a parlor trick. It’s not something we can trust.”
“Maybe you can’t trust your feelings, Shane, but I can trust mine. I love you. There. I said it.” Her heart was thumping so loud and hard it sounded like a rock band was inside her head, pounding out a fierce drum solo. “Deal with it.”
“You’re not,” he said. “You just think you are.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what I feel.” She blinked hard. “Don’t you dare.” Then Meg ran away before she broke down and started crying in front of him.
* * *
Well, hell, he’d screwed that up royally.
Watching Meg flee, he felt like an utter shit heel. He’d bludgeoned her with his truth and she’d said, I love you.
Those three terrifying words he’d only said to one person in his entire life. Ellie. And that was a different flavor of love from what Meg was talking about.
Her departure left him hollow and alone, wanting to protect her and run after her and confess that he loved her too. But how could that possibly be so? How could he trust that these feelings were the kind that could last a lifetime?
God, how he wanted her. In his arms. In his bed. But forever? How could he make such a promise and make it stick? The only thing he knew for sure was that whenever he was around her, need for her drove him wild.
Every cell in his body yelled at him to stop being a fool and go after her, but his feet were rooted into the dirt. If he went after her, he’d make love to her, and if he made love to her again . . . well, he didn’t know what would happen.
And from a practical standpoint, he had to be up at dawn to help Ellie get ready for her big day.
Man of honor. He was the man of honor.
So why, then, did he feel so damned dishonorable?
* * *
Meg marinated in misery all night. Woke on Brady and Ellie’s wedding day feeling worse than the night before.
She tried to fight the blues. Posted an I’m-the-best-woman smile on her face. Faked it. Fooled people. But deep inside she couldn’t run from her despair. She felt lost to herself, to everything she had ever known. To the familiar sights and sounds and smells and textures and tastes of home, even as she was in the midst of them.
Everything she’d once believed about herself felt false. Every comfort she’d ever turned to failed her. Every conversation seemed empty. Every hope a sham.
Who was she? Where was she going? Nothing held meaning. Nothing felt real.
Put one foot in front of the other. You’ll get through this. The hurt will go away eventually.
At noon she went to help Brady dress for the 3 p.m. wedding. She found him standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom reciting his vows. “Have you eaten lunch?”
“Not hungry.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Nope.”
“Not in the least?”
“Meg,” he said, “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
“Okay.”
“You got the ring?” he asked.
Meg held up her right hand with Ellie’s ring on it. Shane was in charge of Brady’s ring. “Do you have the license?”
Brady looked panicked. “I don’t know. Where did I put it? Maybe it’s in my desk.”
“I’ll check your desk—you finish getting dressed.” She rummaged through his desk, found the license. Turned back to him with it held triumphantly in her hand.
“What do you think?” Brady stood there with his arms out.
“C’mere,” she said and crooked a finger at him. “Your bow tie is crooked.”
He came over and she fixed it for him. “I think Ellie is a very lucky woman.”
“I’m the lucky one,” he said.
“You’re both lucky to have found someone willing to lay it all on the line for love.” Meg suppressed a sigh.
“So,” Brady said, “Grant asked you to marry him last night.”
“He did,” Meg said mildly, not wanting to get into it.
“You turned him down.”
“I did.”
“Because of Shane?”
“No. I wouldn’t have said yes either way. I’ve grown beyond Grant. Thankfully.”
“But you’re in love with Shane.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Painfully.” Brady’s sympathetic smile turned her inside out. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you two.”
Meg shrugged. “I’ll live.”
“You’re strong,” he said. “It’ll be all right.”
“Until then,” she said, “do you have a quick cure for a broken heart?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry for the pain, sweetheart. You’ve just got to go through it.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“Shane’s the broken one. If he can’t make room in his heart for a wonderful woman like you.”
“I’m sure it’s because of his childhood. He just doesn’t trust love.”
“You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do?” Brady rubbed a comforting hand over her shoulder.
“I will, thanks.”
But Meg knew there was nothing Brady could do. It was her sorrow and the only way through it was to endure.
Sometimes it truly sucked being strong.
Chapter Nine
Nobody, not even Ellie, could help him. Shane could find no peace from his own mind. No matter where he looked.
He stared at himself in the mirror. Was it his imagination? Or did his eyes seem sunken deeper in his head? He’d never been a melancholy guy, or given to much reflection. This state of mind was new for him and he hated it.
Antidote.
He needed an antidote for the blues. Needed something to break this inner storm and let the light in.
He’d already tried several diversions. Cold shower at two a.m. It only made him shiver, did nothing to drive away the agony. He’d gone for a horseback ride to catch the sunrise, but that stirred romantic thoughts of Meg and he wished she were with him.
In his loneliness, he’d shuffled back to the ranch and ate breakfast in the mess hall, grateful for company. But the eggs had tasted like sawdust in his mouth, the conversations seemed banal. People were wondering what the bride’s dress looked like and what would be her something blue. That reminded him he needed to ask Ellie if she had something blue. He didn’t want her to miss out on any of the traditions.
The sky was bright, but all he could see were clouds. He tried to shake off the gloom for Ellie’s sake. This was her wedding day, but he could find no joy.
He had nowhere to turn. There was nothing to be done. Nothing to think. Nothing to do to fix it. He’d made his choice. He’d turned Meg away after she told him she loved him. It was done.
Torment. Torture. How was he going to get through this?
Acceptance. That’s where he had to land. Accep
t that this was the way it would be. Should be. For Meg’s sake. She deserved someone who could love her without a second of hesitation.
That’s when he knew the truth of it. He wasn’t worthy of her. She had the capacity for so much love. And he? He’d grown up an orphan. He didn’t know the first thing about love.
Except for Ellie.
Ellie was his saving grace.
It would soon be time to head to the chapel. He hurried to the main house, where Ellie was staying in the bedroom next to Meg’s. He knew Meg was over at Brady’s ranch, but nonetheless his heart skittered when he passed by her door.
He knocked gently on Ellie’s door.
“Well?” Ellie said. “How do I look?”
She twirled for him in fluffy white chiffon and sassy cowgirl boots.
“There’s never been a more beautiful bride. There never will be a more beautiful bride,” he said.
“You say that now,” she chided. “But just wait until you have a bride of your own one day. You’ll change your mind.”
“Ellie, you know I’m not the marrying kind.”
She sank her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Ask yourself if that’s really true, Shane Freemont. Or just some story you’ve been telling yourself for thirty years.”
“I don’t think I’m capable of long-term commitment.”
“You committed to the Air Force.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“I needed a job. A place to belong. Besides, the Air Force taught me how to fly. In the sky I’m free.”
“What about Meg?”
“What about her?”
“You don’t have to pretend with me. I know you.” Ellie came near, put her palms on either side of his face, and shook his head around. “You’re in love with her.”
“Is this love? This horrible, miserable sick feeling?”
“No,” she said. “That’s your fear of love. You love her and it happened in a heartbeat and that’s why you’re so scared.”
“Let’s say you’re right and I take a chance on love and it doesn’t work out? What then?”
“But what if it does?”
“I . . .” His jaw unhinged and he couldn’t find the words to describe the depth of his fear—not that it wouldn’t work out with Meg but that it would.
