Meg's Best Man: A Montana Weekend Novella (15 page)

She stared at the once-white square of fabric. “You have a handkerchief.”

“I do.”

She looked up into his eyes. The sun was setting and the light was turning orange, and his amber eyes looked like they were made of gold. “I’ve never known anyone who carried one, except for Jacob,” she said.
What a stupid thing to say.

“And Joshua. He got me in the habit. He said it was the mark of a gentleman.” He caught her eye and winked.

“I guess so,” she said lamely. She squirmed. She wanted her hand back. His hands were warm and strong and they were making her say stupid things. “Where is Brie?”

Oh, that was subtle
. She cringed when she saw him lean back and look at her through narrowed eyes. “Dancing, I think. She and I had a few things to talk about, but you probably guessed that.” He folded the handkerchief and put it back in the pocket of his jeans. “I took care of what I needed to do there, and that means I’m free to do what I need to do now.”

“And what is that?” she said. She rubbed her now dry hand, wishing the heat, and the tingling that shot up her arm, would vanish.

“I was hoping I could dance with you.”

He gave her the grin. The invitation to trouble. Of course a slower song was starting, his timing was perfect. “Um, sure.” She turned to head back to the dance floor, but he caught her arm to stop her.

Gage was still grinning. “No, I was thinking we could dance here.”

“Here?”

“Well, actually over there, out of the way.”

He was gesturing toward a flat, grassy area next to the cabin. No one was there. Her heart pounded uncomfortably against her ribs.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. He was so cool and collected, like lines and clever ideas just flowed off his tongue. She thought about where he had just been, and what Brie had said.

“Do you want to dance here because you’re afraid Brie will see us?”

He gave her a long look. He was considering something, and it didn’t look good. She wondered if she had been right, and she was hoping she wasn’t, although either way she sounded a little like a jealous shrew. Ugh, this man thing was too hard. She almost turned to leave again, but he finally spoke. “I guess I can see why you think that, but you’re wrong. Until you get the whole story, you’re just going to have to trust me.”

Trust him? She didn’t even know him.

“I want to dance with you on the dance floor, too, but not to this song. For this song, I want to dance right here, with you.” He took her hand again, walked her past the table full of stray belongings, and led her to the shadowed patch of grass.

The air in the mountains shifted in the evening. Gone was the hot, grassy smell. The pinesap and the wildflowers took over, and she could almost smell the cool, watery scent of the creek in the valley below.

Gage took her hand and pulled her close. Her right hand felt small and warm in his hand. Her left hand fluttered awkwardly, first on his shoulder, then his arm, feeling the lean curve of muscle everywhere it landed. Even through the jacket it felt too intimate, and there was no safe place to rest. She let it rest just behind his shoulder and tried to ignore what she was feeling.

With his other hand he pulled her close enough that their clothes brushed together. She looked off to the side, memorizing the leather-trimmed yoke of his jacket and the gabardine. She couldn’t look him in the eye.

He swayed gently and stepped slowly, picking the slowest rhythm of the old romantic tune. Was it Sinatra? Was it one of the newer singers? She couldn’t place it, but the mood was the same either way. She glanced up at him. His eyes were already on her. In the fading light his tanned face, dark hair, and amber eyes looked almost unreal, like a painting. Only warmer.

Her high heels put her just a little too close to his face, and she looked down. Pressed white shirt collar. Was that satin under the lapel? His hand felt hot on the small of her back, and the way her dress slid against her skin made her feel like there was nothing between her and his hand.

When she thought things couldn’t get any worse, he pressed his cheek against her temple and held her just a little closer.

Meg closed her eyes. He was all around her, gentle and strong, and everything else fell away. She forgot the steps, just felt them leaning together, her bare legs sliding against the denim of his jeans, her head leaning slightly against his, listening to his long and steady breathing. When the song was over they stood still.

Finally Gage leaned back, and she opened her eyes. His face was shadowy, moody. He lifted his hand from her back and with one finger stroked along her jaw line, ending at her ear lobe, light as a feather. She realized he was going to kiss her, and she took a step back and took a gulp of fresh air. What on earth was she doing?

Another song began. Gage’s chest lifted with a deep breath, and the grin returned to his face. He gestured toward the dance floor, just out of sight behind her. “Shall we?”

It was another old country classic. She guessed the DJ, who was probably Caleb, was giving the parents a fair shot before the cousins and their friends took over the dance floor again. Her feet were glued to the grass. She stared down at them and saw that in the dark green grass all around her burgundy shoes, tiny white flowers were blooming. It looked like a frosting of snow.

She glanced back up at Gage. “Maybe one more here, first,” she said. She couldn’t believe she’d said it, but when he grinned at her, she was glad she had. She felt her skin flush from her hair to her toes. He pulled her into his arms again and led her into a slow and close two-step. “I didn’t know you could two-step,” she said.

“It’s required. If you want to be a genuine Texas cowboy, that is.” He pulled her a little closer. Their steps got smaller until the dance was little more than a swaying embrace. Meg was lost again, as if all that existed was the feeling of him next to her, the cobalt blue sky above, and the tiny white flowers under their feet.

The song was almost over when Gage froze and she felt his hand tense against her back. She glanced up to see him staring over her shoulder, and she spun around expecting to see Brie. But instead she saw Joshua, arms across his chest, feet planted wide. Meg’s heart raced as if she’d just done something very wrong. Had she? She hadn’t, had she? Oh good grief, men were so much trouble.

“What have we here?” Joshua said, smiling. Meg figured it was the same look, maybe even the same words, he had used on the friend who was flirting with Cadence earlier.

Gage lifted his hands into the air, surrendering. “Just dancing.”

“Did you guys know there’s a dance floor back that way?”

Meg glared at Joshua. “Were you on the way to the outhouse, Josh?”

Joshua nodded and started to walk by. “I’ll see you back on the dance floor,” he said.

Meg watched him go then put her hands on her hips. “It’s his wedding. You’d think he’d be too busy to chaperone.”

Gage shook his head. “Yeah, but the last thing I want is for Joshua to think I’m doing something inappropriate with you.” His hand closed in over her elbow and they started walking toward the other, more crowded dance floor. “He’s pretty protective of the women in his life. It’s one of his better qualities.”

Meg still had the shaky feeling she had done something wrong. There was still a question mark around Brie and Gage, and the fact that he would be leaving for Texas soon. The thought of that chased away any warm, easy feeling she had left over from the dance.

Gage might have sensed her change in mood, because he detoured her toward the cabin. “This way first,” he said. He stepped up onto the deck and pulled two chairs over to the railing. Then he jumped the steps down and retrieved two Styrofoam cups of coffee. “They didn’t have any honey,” he said. “So I put just a little sugar in for you.”

He remembered how she liked her coffee. He put the chairs where they had been the night before, before Brie had arrived. She took the cup and sat down. They watched the dancing for a while. Joshua came past, saw them on the deck, then pointed two fingers at his eyes and then at Gage. Gage chuckled.

“Watch it, I think he can take you. He’s meaner than he looks.”

“Then he hides it well.”

Meg looked at Gage, examining his face, the look in his eyes. “You guys are close, huh?”

“When we’re not butting heads.” He looked back over at Meg. “He’s been a big influence in my life.”

Meg thought about that for a moment. “He’s been in mine, too. How did you meet?”

“We met in school pretty early on, but we were moving in different circles. When we both got accepted to the master’s in petroleum engineering program, my advisor said Joshua was looking for a roommate. He was pretty insistent that I call him. I guess he knew I needed to turn things around.”

“What do you mean turn things around?”

Gage examined her face as if he hadn’t decided she was someone he could talk to. He took a sip of his coffee and made his choice. “I shouldn’t have been accepted to the program. My grades were going downhill, my head wasn’t in it. I was dating Brie at the time, kind of. But it wasn’t just her.” He looked back out at the dancers cheering and dancing to a Village People song. “I was on the swim team all four years of college. You wouldn’t think that it would mean much to people, it’s not like I was a quarterback or something, but for some reason it has its groupies.”

“You had groupies,” she said. “The rumors I always heard were that swimmers didn’t like women very much. And you do have roses on your boots.”

He glared at her. “You are just jealous of the boots. You can’t have them.”

She grinned at first, but her smile vanished as she thought about what he was saying. “I suppose plenty of those groupies were women.”

“Yep. Anyone looking for mediocre fame by contact should try swimming.” He ran his hand through his hair, harder than she would have expected. It looked to her like he was trying to erase the memory. “You know, all through high school my parents drove me into the city so I could be on a real swim team. Between the training and the extra hour and a half in the car, I was always busy. When college came, and I was on my own. I spent my time wherever I felt like it. Everything was negotiable. Everything and everyone that used to be important to me. I loved school, but I put less and less time into it. By the end of it even swimming didn’t really matter to me.” He dropped his head, his elbows resting on his knees. “I used to think God was important to me, and my family. I didn’t know how right I was.”

“Then you met Joshua.”

Gage chuckled. “He had house rules. I made fun of him all the time, but in a weird way, a house with a curfew felt more like home to me. Most of all, I got to see that the rules Josh put on himself were a lot more real than the ones he put on me.” Gage leaned back and looked up at the sky. Meg followed his gaze and found that the stars were coming out. At the same time, one by one, the solar-powered lights started to come on. They were strung all over the deck, across the dance floor, from tree to tree, and they spiraled down the trunk of the trees that ringed the meadow.

To Caleb’s credit, once the Village People finished up, Chris August started playing “Starry Night.” It was one of Leah’s favorites. Meg took a moment to soak it all in, the scents, the laughter, the “ahs” as if fireworks had gone off. Under the lights, in the middle of the dance floor, Joshua gave Leah a sweet kiss. In the middle of the mountains of Montana—magic.

She looked back over to Gage and found him staring at her, a serious look on his face. “I met Joshua. I was dating Brie, and Joshua met her friend Leah. Joshua knew from the first second that he was going to marry Leah, and he did everything right by her. He used to say it was an investment in his future. It changed things for Brie, too. When she saw how things went for Leah, she began to demand more from me. And I wanted it so much that I tried to go backward, to do everything the way Joshua did it.”

Meg’s throat felt thick. Her voice sounded hoarse when she said, “You wanted Brie so much.”

Gage looked at her with surprise in his face. “No, Meg. I didn’t want Brie, I wanted what Josh had.”

Meg thought about that for a moment. She also thought about how mad Brie was. “How long ago did you break up?”

“About a year and a half. But it wasn’t a clean break. She thought she loved me, and I wanted to make it up to her, but trying to be her friend just made it worse. I finally quit speaking to her completely.” He blew out a long breath. “That was awkward for everyone. Then I heard she didn’t want to be maid of honor when she heard I’d be the best man. I’ve been trying to call her for five months, to get together, to tell her how sorry I am. She didn’t want to hear it.”

Meg thought about seeing them in the trees, talking for a long time. “Did you tell her?”

“I told her. In the end, she’s just going to hear what she wants to hear.”

Meg had lots of questions, but not very many of them were something she had a right—or needed—to know. Except one. “Do you think she loved you?”

That brought a long sigh from Gage’s lips, and his eyes looked tired and sad. “I’ve prayed about that a lot. I don’t want to think so, because I really messed up. But I can’t fix it. So I pray that she finds the right person, so much so that I just don’t even matter to her anymore.”

Meg doubted that would happen. She’d had crushes that still haunted her from time to time, and she couldn’t imagine being so close to someone for so long and then having it end. “I’ve never broken anyone’s heart.” She didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Gage cocked his head sideways. “Not that you know of. I’d be willing to bet you’re wrong. Not because you’re casual with other people’s hearts, but because you don’t have any idea how beautiful you are. You leave this wake behind you.” He turned away from her. “Your book, your paintings, and you. You have no idea what kind of impression you make on people, even my nephew. And Joshua. And Leah. And… me.”

He looked back at her, his eyes twinkling in the sparkling lights, and no sign of a smile or a joke on his face. She didn’t know what to say, so she just looked back at him, wishing he would look away because she couldn’t. In the long run, this didn’t matter. He might become one of those crushes she wondered about, but nothing more.