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“But the real question is does Cole call you ma’am when you’re on your knees?”

“Of course. He’s a cowboy. He’s always a gentleman. Now come on.” She elbowed Merry. “Let me be your date. I’ll do your makeup.”

“Okay. Yes. You’re officially my date tonight. You’re the only person in the world who could make me laugh this hard right now, anyway.”

“Perfect. And you know what else we need to do? Go shopping. You need a dress.”

“I can’t afford a dress.”

“We’ll take it out of your rent. Do it for me. Please. You’ll be

my pretty dress-up doll for the night.”

Merry smiled. This was how Grace wanted to help. This was how she showed love. “Okay. Fine.”

“Yeah! And then we can rub Crystal’s pointy nose in your beauty!”

Merry exploded in laughter again. “And here I thought you were being sweet and thoughtful.”

“I don’t want to lose my edge.”

There were no worries there. Grace was all edges and hard lines. Until you got past the surface, then she was soft in ways she didn’t want anyone to see. Cole had seen it, though. And for that, Merry loved him like crazy. He almost gave her hope that she could find a good man like him someday. Almost.

“Let’s go,” Merry said, grabbing her phone just as it rang. Jeanine Bishop’s name flashed. Merry stared at it, and even Grace seemed frozen.

She should answer it. No matter what Jeanine was calling about, she should answer it and face the music. She watched the phone until the display blurred. She told herself to answer it. Just answer it. The phone finally went silent.

All her bravery had been used up in that confrontation with Shane. She’d left it on the dusty streets of Providence to dry up and blow away.

She’d find some courage tomorrow. She had to. Or she’d fake it. But tonight, she’d buy a pretty dress, have her makeup done, drink expensive wine and pretend to fit in with her cousin’s friends. She’d pretend to be the success she’d always wanted to be. Tomorrow was soon enough to be destroyed. Her disgrace would be waiting with eager arms.

Merry switched off the ringer. “I’m ready. Let’s go. I want to look like a sexpot.”

Grace paused and shot her a careful look.

“I’m just kidding. I’ll settle for looking like an actual adult for once.”

“Deal. Just relax, darlin’. I’ll make you a woman tonight.”

Thank God. Finally somebody would.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

IT WAS LATE. TOO LATE for a trail ride, but Shane needed it. He’d spent an hour at his lawyer’s office then headed back to his apartment to take the longest, hottest shower of his life before knocking on Merry’s door.

She hadn’t answered, which had hardly surprised him, but she actually seemed to have been gone. He’d tried Cole then, and gotten voice mail. Not much of a surprise, either. He wasn’t sure if his best friend would ever speak to him again. He wasn’t sure he even deserved his best friend anymore. Cole understood that life could be a series of difficult choices, but he’d always made the right ones. Shane, on the other hand…

“Shit.” Shane had to get outside. He had to think. Or better yet, not think at all. And he knew just where to lose himself.

An hour later, the sun was low over the mountains, but Shane was on his horse and headed for the trail beyond Providence. He felt better once he reached the trees, less like a furious female curator might have a sight on his back from her ghost town hidey hole. Ridiculous, of course. Merry’s car wasn’t there, and she didn’t own a gun. As far as he knew. But he breathed a little easier when he was lost in the trees. She might just be mad enough to want to kill him. Or maybe she was so disgusted she didn’t even care.

He took a deep breath, and then another, as he let the horse follow the trail. But instead of riding up toward the cabin, this time he followed the canyon. It was quiet in the deep shadows, the only noise the water dancing over rocks. You couldn’t even hear birds down here, and the wind was still and silent. He kept breathing, taking it in.

This was his land. His. And somehow, he’d never let that wash over him. It meant something, damn it. It meant something to own this land, and not just because it was his, but because it was a place that had belonged to his father’s father, and all the people who’d come before him.

Merry had been right. Those people hadn’t given up or run. They’d lived here, and died here. They’d married and had children and lost loved ones. But this land was still in the family. It was still being passed down, generation after generation. Minus one or two.

They hadn’t given up. He didn’t have to give up, either.

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