Allison Leigh - How a Cowboy Stole Her Heart / The Rancher's Dance - How a Cowboy Stole Her Heart / The Rancher's Dance

Her lips twitched at the thought of Clay choking on a tie while Lisa and her five-inch heels flitted about him.

“I haven’t been a very good friend lately, and I know it. I really am sorry for what I said last spring. Can’t we go back to how it used to be?”

In a way how it used to be sounded great, but she also realized it wasn’t enough anymore. Not for her. But he was offering an olive branch and it would be petty not to accept it. In the end she couldn’t refuse, not when he looked at her in the warm, conspiratorial way he was looking at her right now.

“All right. We’ll go together.”

“Awesome.” He sat up and clapped his hands on his knees. “There’s one problem solved. That’s the trick, Meg. Finding solutions that benefit both parties. You help me, I help you. Everyone goes home happy.”

He had no idea.

“I’ll see you around, Squirt.” He got up from the bench and shook out his pant legs while Meg sat, feeling like she’d been hit broadside and left completely off balance. How had this all happened in the space of an hour?

She looked down at her wax paper bag. The hazelnut brownie was a mangled, gooey mess inside.

“Yeah, see you,” she mumbled, avoiding his gaze and reaching for her purse and keys.

“Megan.”

She looked up at him, not wanting him to know how flustered she suddenly felt, and how childish and small he’d made her feel by employing her old nickname.

“About your project … don’t give up. You’ll find a way. You always do.”

To her surprise he lifted a finger to the brim of his hat before walking away. For all his faults and little annoyances, she’d just been reminded that Clay Gregory was a gentleman. And that she, as a woman, wasn’t impervious to his charms.

They had a date. To a wedding. A wedding where she’d have to wear heels and a dress and fix her hair …

She put her fingers to her lips as the panic set in. What on earth had she just gotten herself into?

IT HAD taken Meg a week to gather up the courage to visit Lily’s boutique, and she’d played with the idea of going to Calgary and being another anonymous customer in some chain store. But she knew Clay was right about some things—one being that she couldn’t avoid people forever. Between Lily’s own unique designs and her carefully selected stock, she’d surely have something to suit Meg’s needs. It was time Meg stopped being afraid. And the wedding date was growing closer. In a way, she was grateful for the push the shopping trip provided.

It didn’t stop the nerves from jumping around in her tummy, though. When she entered the store, Lily was helping another customer and didn’t see her come in. Meg browsed while waiting, but every single dress that didn’t belong on her mother—or grandmother—was either sleeveless or had a much too revealing neckline.

Meg dropped her hand from the dress rack and sighed. She had nerves of steel while waiting for the start of a race but the simple task of choosing a dress for Stacy’s wedding had her in a tizzy. It wasn’t just the need to be girly. It was the added challenge of finding something she was comfortable in, considering the fact that she was still wearing supportive bras with a breast form tucked inside. She held out a misty-blue strapless concoction. How could she possibly conceal the extent of her surgery in something like this?

Maybe she should just tell Clay she couldn’t go.

But that would be chickening out, and as nervous as she was, she didn’t want to be called a coward. She moved to the next rack. There had to be something here in Lily’s shop that would suit. And if she had to ask for help, she would. She kept hearing Clay’s rich voice calling her Squirt. She wasn’t that girl any longer. She was a woman. She’d been through trials and come out stronger and by God, she’d show him that.

Which sounded fine and grand, except for the quivering in her stomach that said she was still unsure about how to explain her particular problem to Lily.

“Megan?”

The bubble of nervousness popped as Meg heard her name. She looked up to see Lily coming toward her wearing a wide smile. Meg was instantly aware of the difference in their appearances. She wore neat jeans and a cotton shirt, while Lily was dressed in classic stovepipe trousers and a ruffled blouse that suited her perfectly. It didn’t happen often, but at times she was envious of the innate style Lily possessed. When Lily had quit her job as a home economics teacher and opened her shop, no one had been surprised. She had a certain knack for designing and Meg knew Lily’s business was gaining notice in larger cities.

“Lily.” Meg started to smile back but before she could compose herself Lily had folded her into a tight hug and Meg felt the beginnings of panic.

Thankfully Lily’s embrace was brief and she stepped back. Meg collected herself as best she could, folding her arms in front of her and pasting on a smile. This was her dear friend, the woman who’d come to Larch Valley and fit in as though she’d lived here all her life. When a baby was born there was a hand-quilted crib set from Lily. If someone was sick, a casserole showed up, accompanied by a helping hand around the house. Lily was the most generous, kind woman Meg had ever known. The hug was a matter of course. But Meg was still so very self-conscious.

“We’ve been wondering when you were going to turn up,” Lily smiled. “Drew said he saw you outside the bakery with Clay the other day. Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come in. We missed you.”

The welcome was warm but Meg heard Clay’s voice in her head. Larch Valley was small and people were going to talk, no matter what. It was the blessing and curse of a small town. There was always a core of caring and concern, but everyone knew your business, too. Even an innocent conversation over a brownie was of note and spread through circles of friends.

“I’m looking for a dress,” Meg blurted, hugely uncomfortable now and unsure how to proceed. Perhaps she wouldn’t have felt so very awkward if she had made an effort to reconnect as soon as she’d come back to town. She looked up at Lily for help. “I’m going to Stacy’s wedding and I don’t have anything to wear.”

Lily’s face blanked with confusion at Meg’s less than personal greeting and Meg cringed inside. She hadn’t meant to sound so brusque. Lily was a close friend, not some clerk.

Lily’s face cleared and she carried on smoothly. “This would be lovely with your coloring.” She held up the ice-blue dress that Meg had held in her hands just moments before. “Your hair’s come in lighter than before, with those gorgeous coppery highlights. With your creamy complexion it’d be perfect.”

Lily’s matter-of-fact remark startled Meg and she touched the tips of her hair self-consciously. “It’s not very feminine,” she said quietly. “Don’t you think that dress is a bit … frilly next to my hairstyle?”

Lily shook her head. “Nonsense, Meg. It’s come in soft and gorgeous. If anything you look exotic and stylish.”

Meg felt gratitude fill her heart. Lily wasn’t just generous, she was genuine. She’d overlooked Meg’s stilted responses and Meg loved her for it. “Thank you, Lil,” she replied, relaxing a little. “It takes some getting used to.”

“I think you should leave it that way. Now, what about the dress?” She shook the hanger in her hands, making the fabric shimmer.

“It’s lovely, but I’m not sure strapless is my thing. I was hoping for something a little more … subdued.”

Lily’s eyebrows puckered in the middle. “Hmm. We might need some help,” she mused. “Hold this.” She shoved a dress into Meg’s hands and headed straight to the door.