Clay chuckled. “He set his sights on you long before that.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged. “Believe what you want.”
She shoved the hat down over her head, shadowing her face so all he could see was the hard set of her jaw. He supposed that if the woman wanted to believe she was the one responsible for her marriage to Kirk, no harm would come from it. Whereas he suspected that harm might come from her learning the truth.
He and Kirk had been standing on the threshold of adolescence. Girls were no longer the irritants they’d once seemed, but were beginning to have an appeal they were both still too young to understand fully. They based a girl’s worth on inconsequential things such as the color of her eyes and the length of her braid.
“I think Meg Crawford has the purtiest eyes I ever saw,” Clay told Kirk one afternoon as they watched the clouds roll by. “I’m thinkin’ I might marry her.”
“You can’t,” Kirk said. “I’m aimin’ to marry her.”
“I said it first.”
Kirk dug a silver coin out of his pocket. “We’ll flip. Eagle you marry her, Liberty I marry her, and loser’s gotta promise he won’t go callin’ on her.”
Nodding, Clay drew an X over his heart with his finger. Kirk tossed the coin, caught it, and slapped it down on his forearm. From her engraved position on the coin, Lady Liberty sparkled in the sunlight. Kirk swiped the coin away and shoved it into his pocket. “Reckon I won.”
In the intervening years, Clay honored the oath he had taken that day. He’d kept his distance, watching from afar as Meg blossomed into the woman who would hold Kirk’s heart.
And now he would continue to keep his distance. Her hatred, far greater than any other’s, would keep him tethered to the childish oath. Even when he sat on the last pew, he could feel her eyes boring into him. He disliked sitting through the church service every bit as much as Joe did. Maybe he should take Josh’s advice and cross his eyes the next time she looked at him.
But when she did finally turn her attention from the road and meet his gaze, he couldn’t bring himself to make light of her feelings toward him.
“What did Kirk say about me?” she asked. “He must have said something you can tell me.”
He tugged his hat brim low over his brow. He couldn’t very well tell her that Kirk had told him about the soft little sounds she made on their wedding night. He wished now he’d just kept his mouth shut and hadn’t tried to get her riled, but she was so durn cute when fury flashed through her face and ignited her eyes so they no longer appeared lifeless. “Well, he talked a lot about the farm, of course, and how he wanted you to have a place of your own.”
She relaxed her shoulders, and he wondered if she’d had an inkling as to what Kirk might have told him. “Did he tell you why he wanted us to have our own place?”
He nodded slowly.
“His mother didn’t like me,” she said, as though he hadn’t acknowledged her question.
“I wouldn’t take her feelings to heart. She doesn’t like anyone.”
She rolled her eyes toward the heavens.
“It’s true,” he went on. “We figured she didn’t even like Mr. Warner, which is why your husband never had any brothers or sisters.”
She leaned toward him, her eyes wide, her voice barely a whisper even though no one was around to hear. “You truly talked about her like that?”
“Her sour mood bothered him, and it bothered him more when you got married and she didn’t treat you kindly.”
“He told you how she treated me?”
“We talked about—”
Impatiently, she waved her hand. “I know. You talked about a lot of things.”
He offered her a rueful smile. “Yes, ma’am, we did.”
“Did you discuss his idea about us living with his grandmother?”
Actually, the day he figured out how long it would take Kirk to save enough money to set up a homestead Clay had suggested they move in with Mama Warner. Hesitantly, he nodded. “He wanted you to be happy.”
“I was after we moved in with Mama Warner. She made me feel so welcome.”
