“I’ll be there, looking forward. Sweet dreams.”
“Same to you.”
* * *
Megan ended the call and finished getting ready for bed. However, sleep wouldn’t come. Restless, she flung the covers aside, pattered across the floor, and lifted her guitar from its place in the corner. She’d been working on the song, on and off for days, hoping to have it ready for the Christmas Ball. But she wasn’t happy with what she’d done. Maybe something would come together now. Sitting on her bed in the dark, she began to strum and sing: “If you could read the secrets in my eyes, would you stay? Or would you walk, walk, walk away? If I could tell you what’s hidden in my heart, would you stay?”
She changed the chords from major to minor, moved the words around. No, something isn’t right. It sounds . . . fake. Like Lacy. She couldn’t imagine singing the song in front of an audience.
She knew that many of the big-name singers wrote their own songs. That was what she needed to get ahead in the business—an original song she could record. But this half-finished ballad wasn’t working. Maybe she was never going to write a good song. Maybe she should just give up.
With a weary sigh, she put the guitar aside and crawled back into bed. As she closed her eyes, she remembered the subtle premonition she’d had at the bridal shower—that this joyful season was just the time for something to go wrong. And now, something had gone wrong—something terrible.
Superstitious nonsense, she told herself. Bad things happen, that’s all. And when they do, there’s nothing to do but deal with them and move on.
But why did an awful accident like Travis’s have to happen at such a happy time?
She could feel herself drifting now. She would think about Sunday and being with Conner. Maybe that would lead to a good dream. And maybe, just maybe, that dream would come true.
* * *
Sunday was a warm day for December, breezy but clear. Under a bright winter sun, the muddy ground was drying into ruts and ridges. With no snow in the forecast, Conner’s hopes for a white Christmas and a profitable sleigh-riding season were fading. But he wouldn’t think about that today—not when he could look forward to spending time with his favorite woman.
Before leaving to pick up Megan, he turned the horses into the pasture to enjoy a few hours of sunshine and freedom. Rush had promised to come by later to check on them and let Bucket outside for a run.
On his way through town, he stopped at the do-it-yourself car wash, hosed the mud off the Jeep, and vacuumed out the inside. His vehicle was nothing fancy, but he wanted Megan to feel comfortable in it. If they could relax and talk today, maybe they could get beyond this edgy, uncertain stage of their relationship and into something warm and secure.
He wanted her to be his girl—that and more. With his partners settling down, he’d begun to think ahead, picturing a family of his own. Would Megan be part of that family? He already knew he had strong feelings for her. But unless Megan returned those feelings, he was headed down the bumpy road to the Heartbreak Hotel.
With luck, after today, he would know.
* * *
Megan dismissed the impulse to check her computer as she waited for Conner to arrive. She had yet to receive a reply to her e-mail about driver training for Daniel. But nobody was going to answer her on a Sunday. For all she knew, the Department of Public Education was closed for the holidays.
And today was all about being with Conner.
Her pulse skipped as his Jeep pulled into the driveway. With a last-minute check in the mirror, she hurried out of her room, said good-bye to her family in the kitchen, and met him at the front door.
His smile warmed her to her toes. “You look terrific,” he said, offering his arm.
“Thanks. I worked on it.” And she had. She’d chosen to wear her new forest green sweater, with jeans and miniature Christmas bell earrings. She’d taken pains with her makeup, too, although she’d held back on the mascara and lipstick. Too much, and she’d start to look like Lacy.
“Have you heard any more about how Travis is?” she asked as he helped her into the Jeep.
“Maggie called me this morning. He’s doing better, but they want to keep him one more night.” He backed out of the driveway and headed in the direction of the highway.
“Poor Maggie must be exhausted. Did she say anything about the wedding?”
“I expect that right now the wedding
is the least of her concerns. She just wants Travis to be all right.”
“That’s true love for you,” Megan said. “Maggie’s waited years for the beautiful wedding she wants. But she knows what’s really important, and that’s all that matters.”
“Yeah. Travis is a lucky guy to find a woman who loves him that much. So is Rush. All I can do is hope that when my turn comes, I’ll be lucky, too.”
The sidelong glance he gave her was unreadable. Was his comment leading somewhere? Was it meant for her?