After Tex

“And the cattle were never stolen.” She couldn’t seem to grasp the implications of that.

“Nope. They’d just wandered off to some other pasture, according to the story that came out eventually. They were grazing a few miles up the mountain, happy as could be.”

“He never said a word,” Megan whispered. “Not one word.”

“Who, Tex?”

“No. Jake. All these years he’s let me go on thinking the worst of him.”

“What did you expect? The man had his pride. You were supposed to know him better than anybody on earth and you thought he was a thief. Never even had a doubt about it, as far as I can recall. Is it any wonder he never said a word, after the way you let him down?”

The accusation stung, in part because of the truth of it, in part because it was coming from a woman who’d never been a particularly big fan of Jake’s back then. Now Peggy sounded like a blasted cheerleader. Obviously the tide had turned in Whispering Wind.

“I wonder if he’ll ever be able to forgive me,” Megan said, surprised and dismayed to find that it suddenly mattered. All those years of thinking of Jake as the bad guy were nothing more than wasted time and wasted regrets. It was just one more thing to hold against Tex. At this rate, by the time the funeral came along in the morning, Megan was going to be glad to see the sneaky old coot buried.

There was a light dusting of snow on the ground when Tex was finally laid to rest on the hill overlooking his spread of land. A mountain of flowers covered the grave, from the splashy, elaborate arrangements he would have loved to the simple bouquet of daisies that Jake had helped Tess pick out at the florist in town.

All during the service Tess had kept her hand tucked in his while huge, silent tears rolled down her cheeks. He had a feeling it was the only display of genuine emotion in the entire crowd of mourners. Most people were here because it was expected. Some had come out of curiosity, because they wanted to see the hot-shot from New York who’d once lived just down the road.

As for Meggie, she certainly didn’t appear all that broken up. Dry-eyed and coolly competent, she looked as if she were worried about nothing more than catering details, when he knew for a fact her heart had to be breaking. Still, five minutes after the service ended, she was back at the house, issuing orders to the temporary kitchen staff and putting the final touches on an elaborate buffet for the mourners. She did it all with a brisk efficiency that proved entertaining a crowd this size was second nature to her.

As he watched her place steaming platter after steaming platter on the table, Jake couldn’t help wondering what had happened to all the food the neighbors had dropped off in Pyrex dishes covered with foil. Probably not up to her fancy standards.

She stood by the table and frowned at some flaw Jake couldn’t detect. He wandered over to stand beside her.

“Something wrong?”

Megan barely glanced at him. “There’s something missing, but I can’t pinpoint what it is,” she said with evident frustration.

“Nobody’s going to notice if you’ve left off a saltshaker or a serving spoon. They’re coming by to show their support and their sympathy, not to see if Megan O’Rourke can throw a great party,” he reassured her, even though he’d been thinking exactly that about the mourners’ motives earlier.

When she would have protested, he tucked a finger under her chin and forced her gaze to his. “Meggie, it’s not a test.”

For a moment tears swam in her eyes. She looked lost and surprisingly vulnerable. “I have to get it right,” she whispered. “For Tex.”

“Then you should have thrown a barbecue and been done with it. That was Tex’s style, Meggie. Not all this fancy silver.”

He’d meant it to be reassuring, but he knew instantly she took it the wrong way. Fire flashed in her eyes.

“Are you saying I’ve gotten this wrong, too? Well, who the hell are you to tell me what my grandfather would or wouldn’t like?” she exploded. “He was my grandfather, dammit. Just because you somehow managed to cozy up to him these last few months doesn’t mean you knew him better than me, Jake Landers. It doesn’t.”

With that she burst into tears and fled to the kitchen. Jake hadn’t intended to goad her into an outburst, but he couldn’t help being glad he’d broken through that tough act she’d been putting on for everyone’s benefit. He was about to follow her when the housekeeper put a hand on his arm.

“Let her go,” Mrs. Gomez said.

“I should have been more sensitive, I suppose,” he said, but without much real regret.

“No. She needed a good cry, but she won’t like you seeing it. You being the cause gives her an excuse she can handle right now. Thinking of Tex being dead and buried is still too much for her.”

“Is she going to be all right?” he asked, still staring worriedly after her.

“Oh, I imagine she’ll be just fine in time. Megan’s a strong, resilient woman. She’s had to be all her life. Her world’s a little topsy-turvy right now, but she’ll set it straight soon enough.”

It sounded kinder when Mrs. Gomez said it than it had when he’d sarcastically accused Megan of being adaptable. “Will she be okay with Tess?”

“As I said, she is resilient. She is also good-hearted. She will do what is right for the child.”

Still staring after Meggie, Jake sighed. “There have been a lot of times these last few months when I’ve regretted letting Tex talk me into drawing up that will of his. This is one of them.”

“If you hadn’t done it, someone else would have. Better that it was someone who knows Meggie, someone who cares about her and can see her through this.”

His gaze shot to hers. “I never said…”

She patted his cheek. “You didn’t have to. It is in your eyes. It always has been.” She gestured toward the table. “Now pile a plate up with some of this food and eat. You will need your strength for what’s to come, Sí?”

Jake had a feeling he could eat every last scrap on the buffet and still not be strong enough to deal with Meggie when she found out about Tex’s final devious scheme to get her back to Wyoming for good.

5

Tears streaming down her cheeks and, no doubt, destroying her carefully applied makeup, Megan retreated to the back steps, where she was pretty sure no one would find her. The fight with Jake had been absurd. She knew that. But it had set off a whole slew of insecurities and stirred up anger and resentment that she’d kept pretty well tucked away inside for the past couple of days.

The anger had been misdirected, of course. It was Tex she was furious with, not Jake. She was mad at him for being sneaky and conniving and, most of all, for being dead.

Now she’d never have the chance to tell him that she loved him, that she owed him or that she was sorry they’d fought. It was too late to take back what she’d said—not that she would have—about belonging in New York, not Wyoming, no matter how much it hurt him to hear it.

The cold air was drying the tears on her cheeks and setting up goose bumps when she heard a soft, shuffling sound and noticed Tess creeping up beside her. The girl’s face was streaked with dried tears and dirt, and her hair was a tangle of mussed curls and straw. Obviously she’d paid another visit to the barn. As pitiful as she appeared, she still shot a defiant look at Megan.

“Why are you crying?” Tess demanded, as if Megan had no right to shed tears over Tex.

“Same reason as you, I imagine.”

“You didn’t care about Tex,” Tess accused.

“Yes, I did,” Megan corrected mildly.

“Sure didn’t show it. I been here six months and this is the first I’ve seen of you.”

“Because I work in New York.”

“So? You make a lot of money, least that’s what Tex said. You could have come home, if you’d wanted to.”

Megan sighed. “Yes, I suppose I could have.”

Tess seemed startled by the quick admission. “How come you didn’t, then?”

“It’s complicated,” Megan said, for lack of a better explanation.

“Complicated how?” Tess asked, refusing to be put off.