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

She shook her head and tossed her coffee cup in the garbage can next to her bench. The flavor had suddenly gone stale and flat. “I don’t see how. I have no collateral to back me up. The only way is to get Mom and Dad to cosign and I refuse to let them take on the burden of this project. I won’t put the ranch at risk. They’ve just paid off the mortgage and they’re still just scraping by.”

Clay remained silent, which only served to cement the facts in Meg’s mind. “Even if I did get financing, I would have a hard time insuring the loan,” she continued, the final nail in the coffin. “With my medical history …”

Clay put his hand on her knee, a gesture she was sure was meant to be reassuring, but his touch seemed to burn through her trousers right through to her skin. She bit down on her lip.

“Don’t give up yet, Meg. When life puts up a roadblock, you have three choices.”

“I do?” She lifted her head and met his gaze. The half smile was back and he patted her knee before removing his hand.

“You can give up, you can bust through it, or you can go around it.”

“I don’t want to give up.”

“Then don’t. It might take some time, but a way will come. You’ll see.”

But she didn’t want to take her time. Time was too precious these days and she was hungry for everything. How could she explain that to him? She couldn’t, not without going into details about the last year. Details she wasn’t comfortable sharing and ones that she knew Clay wouldn’t be comfortable hearing. There was nothing like staring death in the eye to prompt a sense of urgency to live in the present.

“I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I am. You’re not a quitter, Meg.” He nudged her arm. “So you stopped for a chocolate fix?”

“I shouldn’t have. Lord knows it doesn’t solve anything.” She brushed off his question but couldn’t help the tiny ray of hope that still glimmered. Clay didn’t have a solution, but he wasn’t simply nodding his head and saying sorry she’d failed. He believed in her, and he had no idea how much that meant at this moment.

He laughed. “I’ve lived with a woman long enough to know that chocolate brownies can cure a lot of ills.”

Meg smiled. His aunt Stacy. The woman had stepped in when Clay had been a boy and raised him as her own. Now she was getting a second chance at love and Meg thought it was lovely. “Well, maybe.” She nudged his elbow back. “But eventually the brownie’s gone and reality is still there, staring you in the face.”

“Reality is, you only fail if you quit. So don’t quit.”

She turned her head to study his face. It was utterly relaxed, showing a confidence in her that she didn’t necessarily feel in herself. She might have confusing feelings where Clay was concerned, but today she was glad he’d stopped. She’d needed the dose of no-nonsense optimism.

“Thanks,” she said quietly. “For the pep talk.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Lots of people will get behind you, you’ll see. Speaking of, did you see Jen inside?”

“No. She wasn’t in.”

“She’s not in the bakery as often these days, I hear.” He nodded at a neighbor passing by, then rested his elbows on his knees. “Andrew says he wishes she’d take it easier now that there’s a baby on the way. She has catering jobs booked right up until her due date he says. Stacy’s wedding is one of them.”

“When’s Stacy’s big day?”

Clay crossed an ankle over his knee. Lord, where did he get the energy? He couldn’t seem to sit still and it made Meg smile.

“Three weeks. The second Saturday in April. She’s practically moved everything to Pincher Creek already.”

Meg knew Stacy Gregory had reconnected with her high-school sweetheart and they were finally making a go of it. “It seems odd thinking of your place without her,” she said. For years it had been the two of them running the Gregory ranch. The thought of Clay alone in the rambling house left an empty feeling in Meg’s heart.

“I won’t deny I’m going to miss her,” he admitted. “She’s all the family I’ve got. But I’m a big boy,” he replied with a low laugh. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can!” Meg felt flustered beneath the warmth of his steady gaze. “I never meant to imply otherwise.”

“As long as you don’t start acting like Stacy. She’s been hovering and cooking and freezing things for weeks, like I’m going to starve if she’s not there.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why she has to flutter so much. We’ve shared the cooking before. I can manage to not poison myself.”

At his disgruntled expression Megan felt her remaining jitters melt away. “It might not have anything to do with you. Maybe she’s nervous, Clay, and needs something to keep her hands busy.”

He pondered for a moment. “No, I think it’s more than that. She’s been pushing me to bring a date to the wedding. I’m telling you, Meg, weddings make women stir-crazy. All of a sudden they think everyone in the universe should be paired up.”

The air had warmed since the recent cold snap and Meg loved the feel of the early spring sun on her face. It was good to chat about a different topic, putting the focus on someone else and such a happy occasion. “Weddings are a big deal,” she answered, and at Clay’s raised brow, she amended, “So I’ve heard.”

“I don’t know why she thinks I need a date.”

“Someone to pin on your boutonniere?”

“My what?”

Meg really laughed this time. Putting Clay on the back foot was much more fun than thinking about everything that had gone wrong this morning. As distractions went, he was fairly helpful, and for the first time since coming home she felt a return to the easy friendship they’d enjoyed years past. She let her eyes sparkle at him. “See? That’s why. Your flower, silly, on your lapel. I’m assuming you’re in the wedding party.”

“I’m giving her away. Then it’s just a dinner, right?”

“And a dance, so Mom said.”

“Well, whatever. Just because she’s getting married she thinks she can match me up. She suggested Tara Stillwell as if she didn’t already know Dawson’s staked his claim there.”

Meg’s head whipped around. How had things become that serious so quickly? There were times she still felt so out of the loop while Clay seemed to know everything. “Staked his claim? She’s not a parcel of land, Clay.”

“You know what I mean. There are rules and I’m no poacher. Besides, I’m not interested in Tara, for all she’s a nice girl.”

“Are you interested in anyone?” she asked—and then held her breath waiting for an answer.

What had made her ask? Why did it matter if he had his eye on a girl? Why shouldn’t he? It shouldn’t bother her in the least. But it did. She didn’t want him for herself anymore but the thought of him being with someone … it felt wrong.

“No. When I said that she said I should ask Lisa Hamm or Emily Dodds—you know, Agnes’s granddaughter? It was all I could do to put her off. There’s a dance, she said.” He took off his hat and ran his hand over his thick, dark hair, clearly agitated. “If I’m not with someone it’ll be open season, she said. Which is ridiculous.”

It wasn’t ridiculous at all. If Clay went unattached, there’d be a dozen pair of hungry eyes waiting to be asked to dance—or doing the asking themselves. It was nice to know Clay’s ego wasn’t so inflated that he realized it.

That wouldn’t be a concern for Meg. If she went—and she hadn’t decided if she would or not—she’d be holding up a wall somewhere. Who would ask her to dance? She grimaced. She’d be a curiosity. Lots of people looking but keeping her at arm’s length. On one hand, it was what she wanted, because physical contact still made her nervous. But on the other it was damned awkward in a social situation. Which was exactly why she’d avoided those thus far.