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"But it's about you, too, isn't it? You want to prove yourself."
He raised his eyebrows. "You see too much."
"I know you." She shifted on the window seat, settling into a corner.
Justin set the drink down, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. His boots needed polishing, he thought absently. "Being here isn't what I thought it would be. Landing is different. Or maybe it's me. Sometimes I wonder if any of this makes a damn bit of difference. Williams was so sure I had to make peace with the past."
"Have you?"
"Maybe. I'm beginning to understand that I contributed to my own reputation. Like the time somebody burned down those three outhouses. Everybody said I'd done it, so I didn't bother telling them otherwise. I figured no one would have believed me." He shook his head. "A dumb idea. I should have stood up for myself."
"You were just a child."
He almost asked her what her excuse was for not believing him, but he didn't. He liked the quiet conversation and the slightly charged air in the room. He didn't want to change anything between them; he didn't want Megan angry. Not tonight. Not at him. Later they would have to discuss the past and place blame, but not right now.
"I've figured out that there's always going to be folks who don't like me. That's fine. I probably don't want them to like me."
"I wish I could be more like that," Megan said softly. She studied her fingernails. "Are you still planning on leaving in a year?"
"Unless they fire me first. As you know, some of the ladies in town are intent on doing just that."
"A lot of them are also changing their minds. Mrs. Dob-son told me a couple of women left Colleen's meeting after I did. They said you were the right kind of sheriff for our town."
"If s not enough to keep me here."
"Oh."
It was the way she said the single word that caused him to look up at her. She was staring at him intently, as if she'd never seen him before. He straightened slowly.
He wanted to demand to know what she was thinking. At the same time, he reminded himself he couldn't do this again. It was too dangerous. The citizens of Landing changing their minds about him wasn't enough to keep him in town. Unfortunately, a word from Megan was.
He'd been running from the truth since the day he'd arrived. There was no point anymore. The truth was sitting in the window seat not ten feet from him. She'd always been the one to get to him. She would never believe that, no matter how many times he told her. She would never know the extent of her power, or his love. In a way he was glad. If she didn't suspect the truth about that, she would never know how much of him she'd destroyed when she'd sent him away.
He wanted to hate her for making him weak. He couldn't. He'd spent his whole life caring about Megan Bartlett. He knew now he always would.
The truth hit him square in the eye, like an unseen first blow in a fight. He jerked his head back, reeling from the impact. Damn it all to hell. He couldn't escape her.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.
"Like what?"
"As if you'd like to strangle me...and kiss me, all at once."
He straightened and gulped down the rest of his brandy. "I would like to do both."
Her big eyes widened. "I wouldn't mind the kissing part, but I'd prefer not to be strangled."
He swallowed. Hard. "That's the brandy talking. I warned you what would happen the next time we kissed. Have you forgotten so quickly?"
She flushed the color of the rosettes sewn on the bodice of her gown, then wiped her hands on her dress and slowly rose to her feet. "I—I haven't forgotten. I'd still like you to kiss me."
"You'd sound a lot more sincere if you'd stop shaking rith fear, little girl." He told himself the growl in his voice /as from anger and not sexual anticipation. Megan didn't now what she was asking. He had to be strong for both of hem. It would have been easier if she would quit looking at ; rim as if he was the most wonderful man in the world—-they >oth knew that wasn't true—and as if she wanted him as
tauch as he wanted her. "I'm a little nervous," she admitted, taking a step toward him. "But it's not the brandy talking, it's me. I only ook one sip. You were wrong. It doesn't taste better."
