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"Colleen married a minister." She leaned forward in her seat and lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Mr. Estes. I think he was here before you left. He's a few inches taller than you, but he has no hair." She giggled. "He did have hair then, I think. Or parts of it."
Justin smiled in return. "A minister? Figures. I'm surprised you didn't marry one, yourself. Megan Bartlett."
She swallowed. The blush climbed rapidly from the collar of her dark blue dress up her pale throat to her cheeks. Unlike the flush of rage that had made Colleen look harder,
this pink hue made Megan more beautiful. He studied her mouth. It was uneven, with the bottom lip fuller than the top. He'd teased by telling her that it made her look as if she was always pouting. When she'd become self-conscious, he'd whispered all the things her pout made him think about doing with her.
Stop! he commanded himself. He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't keep going into the past and finding the good memories. He had to hold on to his anger until he could come to grips with seeing Megan again.
"I never said I was married," she said, smoothing her hands over her full skirt. "You assumed."
"So neither of us married."
"I didn't wait for you," she said hastily, as she raised her chin higher. "Don't think I did."
Her words brought another revelation. After all this time, Megan still had the power to hurt him. Of course she hadn't waited. She'd made it very clear what she thought of him and his marriage proposal. He gripped his hands so tightly, he thought he would split the skin over his knuckles. He forced himself to relax. Eventually, he wouldn't care anymore. Time away from Landing had taught him that.
"I never thought you waited for me," he said mildly and rested one ankle on the opposite knee. "Until you mentioned it."
"Justin." Megan shook her head. "You haven't changed at all."
"Oh, but I have, sweet Megan. I'm a different man. Much more dangerous."
"I suppose you're right. There are parts of you that seem the same, but other things are different." She studied him. He liked the way her gaze lingered on his face, focusing on his mouth. It was almost like being touched by her. The steady glance, the sudden panic as she realized she was staring. The careful looking away, only to have her eyes flicker back again and again.
"What has changed?" he asked, liking the way he flustered her. She might not have waited for him, but she hadn't forgotten what they'd been to each other.
"You used to be nicer."
He'd expected many comparisons but not that one. He threw back his head and laughed. "Nicer? I was never nice."
"You were to me."
His humor fled and with it his desire to continue this conversation. "Are you surprised? After what happened?"
"You're still angry with me."
He wanted to deny it, but what was the point? They both knew the truth. "Yes. I am still angry. It's been seven years, and I figure I should have forgotten it by now, but I haven't. If nothing else, Megan, you were supposed to be my friend."
"I was." But her actions then belied her words. She dropped her gaze to her lap, where her fingers twisted together nervously.
"Then why didn't you believe me?" he asked.
"I wasn't sure. Everyone said you did it."
"I said I didn't."
She looked up at him. Sadness widened her eyes, darkening the hazel color to gray. "I know. Later, when I knew you were innocent, I didn't know where you were. I wanted to write and tell you I was sorry."
He stood, walked over to where she was sitting and held out his hand. She stared at his outstretched palm for several seconds, then placed her gloved fingers on his and let him help her rise.
She was tall for a woman, but the top of her head only came to his chin. She smelled of some forbidden flower. With her blond hair pulled away from her face, there was nothing to hide the pure beauty of her skin, the large almond-shaped eyes, or her trembling mouth. How many nights had he lain awake picturing this face, trying to forget... desperate to remember? How many times had he begged God to let him hear the words she'd just spoken? The statement of his innocence.
"It's too late," he said. "It doesn't matter now."
