Never Let You Go (19 page)

“Hey, I was supposed to serve,” she said, hurrying toward them with her cheeks flaming.

“No worries. We were ready a little early,” Sarah said, shifting the plates around on the table to make room for the sandwiches. Megan envied her suddenly, so confident, secure in her relationship, happy in her job.

Anna silently piled carrot sticks onto her plate. Without waiting for the others, she sat down and started to eat. Megan looked at Sarah. “Where’s everyone?”

Sarah stared into the distance, thinking. “Let’s see—Dave’s stocking horse feed, Thomas is harrowing oats, and Linda’s taking a
nap in the house. She wants to be fresh for the party tonight. And Robert and Isaac are picking up party supplies in town. We’re eating in shifts today, especially since I’ve got the party food to cook.” She held out the plate of sandwiches. “You guys want tuna or ham and cheese?”

Megan took a tuna sandwich and went to sit beside Anna. Her friend was eating stolidly, as if she were completing an assignment.

“I had the best morning with Sweetie,” Megan said, biting a corner off her sandwich. She watched Jordan tactfully sit down at the other end of the table, beside Sarah.

Anna said nothing at first. She’d already finished a ham and cheese sandwich, Megan noticed, and was starting on a second one. “What happened?” Anna asked after a long moment.

Megan could tell it was an effort for her to get the words out. Regret and love almost choked Megan, and it took her a second to answer. “I got Sweetie to step over this drain he was afraid of.” She made her voice cheerful. She felt like Anna had been wounded and it was up to her to make her friend better.

Sarah stood in alarm. “What is it?”

Dave was running down the path toward them, a feed scoop in his hand. Megan was surprised—no one ran around here.

“The foal’s out,” he said between pants, his big face bright red. “Stall was unlatched. I got the mare in, but the foal must be down by the road now.”

The road!
Megan’s heart thudded. She flashed on the story
about Aunt Linda’s old dog—the one that got hit on the road.

“What do we do?” she cried.

“Thomas is down there, but the foal won’t come to him,” Dave said. “Megan, we need your help. Maybe he’ll come to you. Here, I brought you some sweet feed—get going! Jordan and I’ll go down and try to stop traffic.”

Dave’s words were like an electric jolt. Megan started running. She’d only gone a few yards down the gravel driveway before she heard someone running after her. Then Anna’s cool voice spoke. “Here, you forgot the feed.” Anna thrust the scoop into Megan’s hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll get him.”

Anna’s voice flowed like a tonic over Megan’s vibrating nerves. Megan nodded. “You’re right. He’ll be okay,” she heard herself say. In the far reaches of her mind, she wondered briefly why Anna was being so nice. Megan knew she was still mad. Maybe she was getting over it.

Together, they ran out to the road. Thomas was in the center of the blacktop, holding a coffee can of grain toward the foal, who stood coyly about thirty feet away.

“Here, here,” Thomas crooned soothingly, rattling the grain can.

But Sweetie took no notice. Instead, he stepped delicately to one side and nosed the dotted yellow center line.

Megan heard the car before she saw it—a loud muffler buzzing in the quiet like an oncoming bee swarm. Then she saw the sun glinting off the windshield. It was going too fast—she could see that already.

“Stop!” Thomas yelled, waving his arms from the shoulder, but it was too late. The car zoomed up the road and Megan prayed, willing Sweetie not to step forward into its path.

The next thing she knew, the car was past them and the little horse still stood at the side of the road, his big eyes looking at them wonderingly.

“He’s okay, Meg,” Anna said. Megan nodded mutely. Thomas slipped Sweetie’s little red halter into her hand.

“Sweetie,” Megan called calmly. “Hi, boy.” The foal looked at her. “What are you doing out here, silly boy?” Megan asked him conversationally. She sensed it was best not to let him know anything was wrong. She needed to convince him that she was the most interesting thing here, not the road or the miles of freedom unfurling before him.

Casually, she rattled the feed scoop. She walked, slowly but confidently, toward Sweetie, keeping up an easy patter while holding out the feed.

“You want a treat, baby?” she asked.

He took a step toward her, sniffing the air.

She was only about five feet away now, and she knew he could smell the grain. She stopped.

“Well, come on over here and get it.” She waited. Her body language said she had all the time in the world.

The foal took one step, then another. The allure of the grain was irresistible. He took one last step and thrust his nose into the scoop.

Working calmly and swiftly, Megan buckled the halter over
his head, then breathed a huge sigh of relief. She buried her face in his furry neck as he munched the grain.

“Very well done, Megan. You handled that like a natural horsewoman,” Thomas said, taking the lead rope.

Megan realized her knees were trembling. They all walked back toward the farmhouse, but she didn’t fully relax until they were safely on the driveway.

Megan didn’t think she could eat any more lunch. Thomas led Sweetie toward the barn, while Megan and Anna walked over to the chicken coop. They were supposed to collect eggs this afternoon, and it was late.

Silently, Anna opened the coop door and let Megan pass through. Most of the hens and the rooster were outside, pecking around in the grass for insects. Just one fat red chicken sat in a box in the corner, feathers fluffed out, clucking quietly.

Megan had plucked two warm, spotted eggs from a low nest box before Anna spoke. “You left the door unlatched, didn’t you?”

Megan winced. She placed the eggs in her collecting carton before answering, “I don’t think so, but I don’t know how else they could’ve gotten out.” She pictured herself celebrating Sweetie’s triumph over the drain, then closing the door behind him and hanging up his halter. But had she slid the latch? It was possible she’d forgotten in all her excitement. Megan took a large brown egg from another nest.

“So, basically, it’s your fault.”

Megan dropped the egg. Viscous yellow splattered the wall.
“Shit,” she whispered. She knelt to gather up the fragmented shell.

“Good thing you caught him,” Anna went on. Megan glanced over. Her friend was rolling an egg around between her palms. “If he’d gotten hit, it would’ve been your fault too, you know.”

“I know.” Megan felt sick. She watched Anna toss the egg in the air. The shell had an odd greenish tinge.

“Your fault. He could’ve died.” Anna tossed the egg again. And this time let it drop.

CHAPTER 13

“Oh, come on, don’t you want to wear it?” Anna shook the lacy white shirt in front of Megan as she sat on her bed later that evening. Anna wore only her bra and jeans, and for the billionth time, Megan wondered how she got her stomach to look like that.

“I don’t feel like dressing up.” Megan plucked at the scratchy blanket.

Despite the prospect of a party, a depression had settled over her after egg collecting. She knew it was because of the Sweetie incident. Anna was right—it
was
her fault. She’d gotten overconfident and,
boom
, screwed up. She was a loser. Megan heaved a gusty sigh and lay back on the mattress.

“Stop being such a downer!” Anna pitched the shirt at Megan. “You’ll look gorgeous in that. I’m going to wear this one.” She held up a clingy black top. “And a black bra—it’ll be perfect.”

Megan watched as her friend wafted around the little cabin.
Anna was in a marvelous mood. She brushed her long black hair and put on a pair of long silver earrings that brushed her neck.

“What do you think?”

Anna twirled.

Megan had to smile. “Really nice.”

“I think he’ll like it.” Anna turned back to the tiny, spotted mirror and leaned in to apply a deep berry lipstick.

Megan’s heart skipped a beat. “Um . . . who?”

Anna capped the lipstick. “Robert, of course.” She blotted her mouth on a tissue.

Megan sat up. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“What gave you that idea?” Anna shot her a quizzical look, then breezed over to her trunk. She extracted a hot pink silk flower on a bobby pin and slid it into her hair just over one ear.

Megan opened her mouth, then closed it again. Anna turned around, holding another flower in her hand, this one bright yellow.

“Look, this is perfect for you.” She leaned over and clipped it into Megan’s hair. Megan caught a whiff of her lemon perfume.

Anna dragged Megan over to the mirror. Together, they gazed at their flower-bedecked reflections. Anna was right. The big yellow flower contrasted perfectly with her chestnut hair.

Megan grinned at her friend, her heart suddenly lifting. “You’re right. Thank you.”

Anna nudged her. “You’re welcome. Now would you please put on that shirt so we can go already?”

Megan laughed and nodded. “Okay, just give me a minute.”
The Sweetie thing was over with. There was no sense in sitting around dwelling on it. Anna was right. She might as well go to the party and have a good time.

Jordan was coming up the path just as they were leaving. Megan automatically tensed—her autoresponse these days—and glanced at Anna, but her friend’s flow of chatter didn’t break.

“Hey,” Jordan said as he approached. “Came to see if you guys were ready.”

“We are! And I lent Megan my shirt. How do you like it?” Anna burbled.

Jordan smiled shyly at Megan. “Nice,” he said. His eyes ran over her figure, and Megan felt her cheeks grow pink. She realized it was the first time a guy had looked at her like that with Anna standing there beside her. They were usually looking at Anna.

They all walked to the house together, Megan in the middle. Anna pointed out a cluster of yellow buttercups and a tiny green frog. They passed the garden and admired the corn, which looked like it had grown a foot practically overnight.

Megan felt enchantment in the air, as if this evening was guaranteed to be filled with perfect happiness. Anna content, Jordan holding her hand. It was a beautiful night, and they were going to a party. She looked up at Jordan and squeezed his hand. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close as they walked.

“Ooh, look!” Anna pointed ahead.

The farmhouse was transformed by strings and strings of
white lights: on the bushes, over the porch railings, on the trees. Torches stood all around the perimeter of the lawn, flaring in the twilight, and the long table from the kitchen had been moved out to the grass next to the picnic table. They were both covered with white cloths, and even from a distance, Megan could see they were loaded with good things to eat: caramel corn, olives, pickles, cherry tomatoes, little sandwiches, homemade hot pretzels, sliced peaches and strawberries, jugs of iced tea and cold cider.

Groups of people were already scattered on the lawn, talking, holding glasses. Robert and Dave tacked up a loose strand of lights, while Thomas stood talking with Isaac and a craggy figure Megan recognized as Mr. Coothy. She swallowed and hoped he wouldn’t spot her with all the other people around. Nearby, Dee, Murray, and Charles from the farmers’ market were filling plates at the food table.

On the porch, a band with a mandolin, banjo, and guitar was warming up. Linda rolled across the grass toward them.

“The last to arrive!” she called. She was wearing a soft, airy lavender dress, and her white hair shone platinum in the flaring light.

“It took us a while to get dressed,” Anna explained in a genuinely friendly voice.

Megan smiled to herself. This evening
was
enchanted.

“You girls look lovely,” someone said from behind them. They turned around to see a surprisingly handsome Thomas in a white shirt with the sleeves pushed up, holding a tray of hamburger patties. Beside him, Sarah balanced a big stack of buns. Megan
thought she looked like a ballerina in her simple black sundress, with her long hair pulled back in a loose bun.

Anna hugged her uncle. “Thanks, Uncle Thomas.” Then she pulled away and hurried off past the group without a backward glance.

“We’ll be grilling in a few minutes!” Thomas called after her. “If Sarah doesn’t drop the patties in the coals like last time.” He gave Sarah a mischievous look, and she rolled her eyes at Megan and Jordan.

“If you smell burning, it’s all him,” she said to them as Thomas went over to the big charcoal grill.

Megan and Jordan were left standing alone. He twined his arm around her waist, and they slowly strolled toward the food table. “That caramel corn looks good,” Megan said.

“I saw Sarah making it earlier.” Jordan picked a few crunchy, golden pieces from the basket. “She made her own caramel.”

Megan nibbled on a handful. “You can do that?”

“Yeah. She said all you do is burn sugar and melt it together with butter—” Jordan stopped talking and looked at something over Megan’s shoulder. Megan turned.

Anna stood pressed up against Robert, laughing loudly at something he’d said.

“Stop! You are so kidding,” Megan heard her say. Her voice carried easily over the crowds. Robert looked surprised but pleased. He grinned tentatively.

“No, really. Two twenty-five,” he said.

“Stop! Stop!” Anna sounded as if he’d just told her he was going
into space. “Isaac!” She grabbed Isaac, who was standing beside her. “Robert can bench two twenty-five. Isn’t that
incredible
?”

“I thought she didn’t like him,” Jordan said.

Megan shrugged. “People change.” They looked at each other, knowing something was askew but not quite sure what. The band finished tuning up and swung into a bluegrass tune.

“You want to dance?” Jordan asked.

“I don’t know how to dance to this kind of music.” Megan hung back. “It’s old-timey.”

“Whatever.” Jordan grabbed her hand. “We’ll look stupid together.”

Megan laughed and let him pull her over to where Dave and Sarah and a few other couples were already dancing. Megan knew there was no way she could replicate their steps, which looked like some kind of jig, but Jordan swung her around, and they did a few twirls. Jordan’s face drew near hers and then farther away as he spun her to the twangy beat. Megan realized it didn’t matter what she looked like—she was having fun.