Megan's Hero (The Callahans of Texas Book #3): A Novel (15 page)

Her heart skipped a beat as she searched his face in the filtered moonlight. “I’ll be going, but as a worker bee. In case the cake needs a touch-up.” He lightly caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, and she suddenly felt a little light-headed.

“You can do whatever you need to with the cake, but I’d like for you to go with me.” The bright three-quarter moon popped out from behind the cloud the same instant Will smiled. “Ride in together—just us. Sit together. Eat supper and cake together.” His expression grew serious. “I want to spend the evening in your company, Megan, and I want everyone there to know that you’re with me. Not with my family, but with me.”

Oh, how she wanted to! She’d be like Cinderella going to the ball, only escorted by the handsome prince instead of meeting him there. But when the evening was over, her handsome prince wouldn’t come searching for her with a glass slipper. He’d see how foolish he’d been. Merely sitting next to him in church every Sunday caused enough gossip to start a whirlwind.

Though not wanting to stir up more talk was only an excuse. It would be so easy for Will to make her long for things that could never happen. Falling for him and then being spurned by him would be the worst pain she’d ever known. Better to nip it in the bud.

“Thank you, but I can’t.” She eased her hand from his.

“Why not?”

“You aren’t supposed to ask that. You’re supposed to be a gentleman and let it go.”

“Sometimes being a gentleman is overrated. Why won’t you go with me? I want the real reason, not some lame excuse.”

“You’re a heartbreaker, Will. I don’t want to go down that road again.”

Frowning, he muttered, “I’m not a heartbreaker.” He was silent for a few seconds. “Okay, maybe once. But I started out with good intentions. After a while I realized that I didn’t love her. There were a couple of other times when I had high hopes, but the feelings didn’t go deep enough for either one of us.”

He studied her face in the moonlight. “Tell me about the man who deserted you when you needed him most.”

She leaned against the car, considering his words. Though she had shared some of her history with him and had told him she wasn’t married, he’d never asked if a boyfriend might show up at any time. It was odd that none of the Callahans had ever brought it up themselves. Politeness went only so far.

Nor did she believe that they would simply accept what she told the hospital clerk about having no one to contact in an emergency. She knew Will overheard it because he was sitting right beside her. The Callahans were kind, generous, and inherently good people, but they weren’t naive. Why should they take her word about anything?

Maybe her family and her upbringing had made her cynical, but she didn’t believe someone with their kind of money would welcome a stranger into their lives without trying to learn something about her. But by doing so, they put themselves in a pickle. They couldn’t simply announce that they’d run a background check or had her investigated.

“Why don’t you tell me?” she asked quietly, crossing her arms.

Will’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Come on, Will. Surely y’all had somebody check up on me. What did your private investigator find out?” She was taking a stab in the dark, but his sudden unease told her she’d hit the mark.

Stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, he turned, leaned against the car, and stared at the ground. “How did you find out about that?”

“Just a wild guess.”

His head jerked up, and he stared at her. “No wonder you’ve made it on your own since you were a kid.” He hesitated, probably sorting out what he should tell her. “The investigator, Peters, talked to a woman you worked with at the real estate office. I’ve never met him, but he must be a friendly, charming guy. He’s good at getting people to reveal things.”

Sweet Baby wiggled and kicked. Megan uncrossed her arms, resting her hands on her stomach, rubbing the little foot that poked her palm. “Most people are more than willing to share gossip.”

He nodded. “True. She said that you’d never been married, which he confirmed by checking the marriage records. She also said that your boyfriend was a married man, but that she didn’t think you knew it when you were seeing him.”

“I didn’t. He told me he was divorced. Ken was sweet and a lot of fun.” Megan’s sigh was filled with regret. “I thought he really cared about me.”

“Since he has kids, I assume he was older?” Will pulled his hands from his pockets and rested them on the car.

Megan flinched. She’d hoped he hadn’t learned about the kids. “Yes. Thirty-four. I haven’t dated a lot, but all my other boyfriends were about my age. He had me completely fooled. I knew he had kids. He showed me their pictures and talked about them, but I never suspected that he was only separated from his wife. So much for my street smarts.”

“Some men lie well.”

“He was a pro. I learned later that his wife had kicked him out four months earlier because he was cheating on her with someone else. Once I gave in and slept with him, he wasn’t interested in me anymore. Evidently all the time he was seeing me, he’d been trying to get her to take him back. He spent the night at my apartment and moved back home to his wife the next day. He sent me a text message letting me know our affair, as he called it, was over.” She noticed Will’s hand curl into a fist and eased a little farther away. It was an instinctive reaction, though when her brain shifted gears, she knew she had nothing to fear from him.

“He wasn’t man enough to talk to you face-to-face?”

“No. I called him when I found out I was pregnant, but he didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby. I was relieved. He already has four kids and is a lousy husband and father. I didn’t want to break up his marriage or get support or anything. But I thought he should know.”

“You did the right thing.” He relaxed his hand. She wondered if it was a conscious effort or a subconscious one.

“That was the only thing I did right where he was concerned.” She tried to lighten her tone. They obviously didn’t know everything about her family or she wouldn’t still be there. “So what else did Peters find out?”

“He only got as far back as your last restaurant job in Austin. There had been a lot of turnover, and only one person remembered you. Nobody knew where you worked before that. After you mentioned living in San Angelo, he did an initial check there, but he didn’t find anything on you.”

Thank goodness.

When he looked at her, she glanced away. “Oddly, there weren’t any school records on a Megan Marie Smith.”

“After I left, I heard they had a fire in the building that housed the records.” It was true, but there wouldn’t have been anything on Megan Marie. That wasn’t her name back then. By not telling him, was she only protecting herself? Or lying?

There had been a time in her life when lying didn’t bother her a bit. Mrs. Hoffmann had taught her about integrity. She had a feeling her old friend wouldn’t be happy with her right now. Which meant God probably wasn’t either.
Please forgive me if this is wrong. But I don’t want him to find out about my family.

“That could be it. There are too many Smiths in San Angelo for him to try to question them all. Or any for that matter.”

“There are a lot of them.” And she wasn’t kin to any of them.

He waited a moment, no doubt hoping she’d enlighten him. When she didn’t say anything else, he said quietly, “Megan, I didn’t like Dad having you investigated. I don’t think he liked doing it, either.” A tiny smile touched his face. “And Mom was ticked. But we had some trouble several years back when my cousin and her new boyfriend came for a weekend visit. We all liked the guy until Dad caught him with a handful of Mom’s jewelry that he’d taken out of the safe. It was always locked, but he opened it.”

“Combination?”

“Yep.”

“So he was a pro.” She tried to keep a straight face when he slanted a quick, questioning glance in her direction. Her cousin Josh had tried his hand at safecracking, but he wasn’t any good at it. He gave up after his second attempt, complaining that he needed a pro to give him some tips, but he couldn’t find anyone who’d do it. “I assume he’d fooled your cousin as well.”

“Yes. He was an auto mechanic by day and a thief by night. So to keep from being robbed—or avoid shooting somebody—Dad hired Peters to investigate houseguests that he didn’t know well. The only thing valuable that my folks keep in the house now is the silver.”

“It would be a little hard for a guest to sneak the teapot out of the house.”

“Might be a little obvious. Still, Dad doesn’t want to risk having a criminal around. I understand his reasoning, but it still doesn’t sit well.”

“But it’s wise.”

He turned to her with a frown. “You aren’t offended?”

“Not really.” Should she come clean? Was it better to tell them that she came from bad blood than have Peters discover the truth? “I learned early not to trust people. If I were in your father’s shoes, I’d want to know the background of anyone staying under my roof or living on the ranch. To be honest, it’s been bugging me because you haven’t asked me more questions, especially about Sweet Baby’s father. So when you asked me to go on a real date, I figured you already knew for certain that I wasn’t married. But how could you tell me?”

“It’s been a dilemma. Now that we have all that out in the open, will you go to the wedding with me?”

“You’re persistent, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He caught her hand in his. “Megan, I understand your fears.”

Not by a long shot.

“The last thing in the world I want to do is hurt you. I don’t want to get hurt, either, though that’s a distinct possibility. But there’s something between us. I think more than friendship. I’d like to see if God has something good waiting for us.”

“It won’t work, Will. We come from two different worlds.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“I’m going to have another man’s baby.”

“That doesn’t matter, either. Honestly, sugar, it doesn’t. Nate loves Zach like his own son, and if God puts us together, I could love Sweet Baby like my own too.”

He gently cupped her face with his work-worn hand. “We may find that friendship is the only relationship for us. We may even get hurt in the process. But we’ll never know what might be unless we hitch up the wagon and ride down the road a spell. I’m willing to try it. Are you?”

Her heart longed to say yes. Her head screamed for her to run the other way. There could never be anything serious between them. He was a Callahan. She was a nobody. Worse than that, she was the only person in her family that hadn’t spent time in jail.

“Will you go to the wedding with me?”

“Yes.”

Please, God, don’t let this be a mistake.

The Friday before the wedding, Will pulled up in back of Megan’s house at twelve o’clock on the dot. She wasn’t expecting him, but he didn’t think she’d turn him away. At least not until after they ate.

She met him at the back door. “Do I smell French fries?”

He grinned as she opened the screen door. “Yes, ma’am. Supersized. I thought about getting pizza, but since you mentioned craving fries again yesterday, I opted for the burger. Along with cherry 7UP and two gallons of orange swirl ice cream.”

“You do know the way to a girl’s heart.” She took the beverage holder he was juggling.

“I’m tryin’.” If all it took to win her heart were fries and ice cream, he’d have it made. “How are you doin’?”

“Hungry and ready for a break. Perfect timing.” She glanced around the kitchen. “But we’d better eat in the living room.”

He surveyed the room. Dirty mixing bowls, cake pans, and utensils filled the sink. There were pages of instructions scattered on the table, along with a roll of white satin ribbon, a long box labeled Silver Fanci-Foil Wrap, three packages of twisted, crystal stick-like things, a roll of masking tape, and several flat boxes of varying sizes.

The counter also contained tools of the trade. The big mixer, pastry bags, numerous tips, a small ruler, two different-sized bowls, a can of meringue powder, a bag of powdered sugar, and a can of vegetable shortening.

Next to all that was a wide empty space with a few dollops of white icing on the counter. On the other side of her work space was a sheet of wax paper with seven rows of white icing roses. He paused to make a quick count. Ten flowers to a row.

“That’s a lot of roses.”

She set the beverage carrier beside the sink and removed the drinks. “It’s not as many as I started with. The recipe calls for eighty-five rosettes, but I made a bunch extra in case some got messed up. Some are already on the cake. After we eat, I’ll show you what I’ve accomplished so far.”

He set the white paper bag of burgers and fries on the counter and put the ice cream away in the full-sized freezer while she removed a couple of plates from the cabinet.

“Are the burgers the same?”

“Yes.” He closed the freezer door and walked over to join her. “Tomato, extra pickles, and no onion.”

“Just the way I like it.” She smiled and scooted a plate over to him as he opened the bag.

“Me too. Sometimes I add onion, but not when I’m eating with a pretty lady.” He winked at her and handed her a burger and the supersize box of French fries. “If I’m with Chance and Nate, they can just put up with it.”

“They probably do the same.”

“Not since they got married. Dalton got just as bad after he started dating Lindsey. Before that, he didn’t care if he knocked over the bad guys with onion breath.”

She dumped the potatoes out on her plate, laughing when they almost took up the whole thing. “You could have skipped the sandwich.”

“Nope. Can’t live on fries alone. Gotta have that red meat.”

“Yes, Dr. Callahan.” With a wink and a smile that went straight to his heart, she picked up her plate and drink and headed toward the living room. “Do you want the recliner?”

“Nope. You go ahead and put your feet up.” A few days earlier, she’d mentioned her feet swelling, and that worried him. Jenna and his mom told him it was pretty normal. But they thought it was sweet of him to be concerned.

“Talked me into it.” She popped a fry into her mouth before she even reached the chair and sighed contentedly. “You’re spoiling me.”

“Doin’ my best.” The best he figured she’d let him do at that point. He wanted to shower her with gifts, have her relax in a recliner all day long, and not do a lick of work. Sleep, read, knit baby booties, or anything her heart desired except work so hard that she had dark circles under her eyes.

He took a seat on the couch as she settled in the chair. After they’d both eaten for a few minutes, he asked, “When is your next appointment with Cindy?”

“In a couple of weeks. Why?”

“You look tired.”

“Of course I’m tired. I’m pregnant.” She made a face and stuck three fries in her mouth.

“You’re working too hard.” He half-expected her to hit him with a pickle.

She glared at him and took another bite. Chewed it, swallowed, and leaned her head against the backrest. Suddenly, tears rolled down her cheeks.

He practically tossed his plate on the coffee table and hurried over to her, kneeling beside the recliner. “Sugar, what’s wrong?”

“I’m worn out, my back hurts, and the wedding is tomorrow. I have to finish the cake, and I just want to sleep.” She met his gaze, her eyes filled with tears. “You were right, Will. I shouldn’t have taken this on. It’s too much. I’m not good enough. I’m too slow, and I won’t get it finished on time.”

He took her plate, carefully leaned across her, and set it on the end table. Sliding his arms around her, he held her close. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. You’ll get the cake done, and it will be beautiful.”

“How do you know? You haven’t even seen it.”

“I’ve seen the roses—”

“Rosettes. They’re different.” She sniffed loudly.

“If you say so.” What she’d made looked like roses to him.

She pulled back a little and frowned up at him. “Roses have petals. They’re a lot harder to make. At least for me they are. You have to make the petals one at a time, building up the flower.”

“Then it’s good you’re doing a cake with rosettes.”

She nodded, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. “I can’t do it.”

He drew her close again, gently rubbing his hand up and down her arm. “Yes, you can. You just need to take a nap. What time did you get up this morning?”

“Five,” she mumbled against his chest, snuggling a little closer. Her tears dampened his shirt, the spot cool on his skin. He wished he could hold her forever and never let anything make her cry.

“When did you start working?”

“Five-thirty.”

“Did you take any breaks?” He brushed a light kiss on the top of her head.

“A couple. Short ones.” She sniffed and swiped her nose with a napkin.

So much for pacing herself.

“Okay, Master Cake Lady, here’s the plan. You finish your dinner, then you take a nap. Here in the chair, in bed, wherever you want to stretch out.”

“I can’t. I’ll sleep too long.”

“I’ll mak
e sure you don’t.” He slowly released her, and she straightened, eas
ing away from him. Resting his hands on the chair arm, he asked, “Is an hour good enough? Or two hours?”

“An hour will do it. But don’t you need to go to work?”

He grinned unrepentantly. “I’m the boss, remember? I can set my own schedule.” He stood and pointed to her plate. “Now eat up.”

“I’ll never finish all these fries.” She picked up her plate and ate a few of them. “Even if they do taste wonderful.”

“It won’t bother me. The burger is healthier anyway since it’s broiled.”

“I’ll probably have to change my eating habits soon. The doctor said I may start getting indigestion a lot when Sweet Baby is a little bigger.”

“Then you should enjoy it while you can.” He sat back down across from her and took a sip of soda before picking up his plate. “I talked to a friend of Dalton’s this morning about your van. He might be interested in it for a parts car. He’ll be out Monday to take a look at it.”

“Will he pay more than the salvage company?”

“Maybe. Gotta get you the best deal I can.”

“I appreciate it.”

They finished the meal, chatting occasionally, and Megan went to nap in her bedroom, after making Will promise again to wake her in an hour. He rested in the recliner for about fifteen minutes, not wanting to make any noise that would keep her from going to sleep.

Then he quietly went into the kitchen and peeked into the refrigerator to see how her project was coming along. Practically the whole fridge was full of cakes.

The groom’s cake was a large sheet cake with chocolate icing and chocolate shavings covering all the sides. A replica of Dalton’s deputy sheriff badge, a five-pointed silver star with bands of red and blue and “State of Texas” decorated the top.

Will had never studied Dalton’s badge closely, but he figured the emblem on the cake was right on the money. From what he’d seen, Megan strove for perfection in everything she did.

There were four graduating tiers of the wedding cake, all covered in smooth white icing. She had already decorated the two largest ones. Rosettes were placed in a row around the side at the top of each layer, extending slightly above the edge. Alternating rows of beaded icing draped from one flower to the next like pearl necklaces of two and three strands. A compact row of slightly larger beadlike balls circled the bottom of each layer.

It was one of the prettiest wedding cakes he’d ever seen, and he had seen plenty. He’d heard the girls discussing the flavors. Megan was doing something different with each tier. He couldn’t remember all the combinations, but they included chocolate and white cakes, and strawberry, pineapple, and chocolate mousse for the fillings. His pretty little baker already had people talking about her creations, but she was definitely going to make a name for herself with this one.

She wouldn’t be able to do anything else so grand until after she had the baby and recovered, but he expected she’d be able to keep as busy as she wanted after that. The bakers at Miller’s Grocery did fine with doughnuts, cookies, and everyday cakes, but neither of them had the time or inclination to do more than write a few lines on one of the regular cakes if someone wanted something for a special occasion.

He closed the refrigerator door, staring at the orderly rows of rosettes on the counter. Megan claimed that she was utilizing only things she’d learned in the classes, but she was as much an artist as someone who painted on a canvas or created a sculpture.

Will washed and dried all the dishes that were in the sink. He could have put some of them in the dishwasher, but this way they’d be clean if she needed to use any of them again right away.

When he heard a distant rumble of thunder, he walked out onto the back porch to check the sky. A line of thunder-bumpers were forming to the north, so he rolled up the windows on the pickup and checked the carport to make sure the ones on Megan’s car were closed.

He went back inside and used the laptop to check the WunderMap on Weather Underground. The weather forecast had called for thundershowers. The interactive radar showed him that they were moving in their direction. No warnings or alerts were posted, so hopefully it would be a pleasant rainy afternoon. A good day to take the afternoon off and stay inside, preferably right there.

Turning on the television, he kept the volume low and watched a show on the Discovery Channel about sunken treasure in the Caribbean. He was about to go tap on Megan’s door when she came wandering down the hall.

“Did you sleep?”

“Yes. You had a good idea. I feel a lot better. I thought I heard thunder.” She paused and looked out the window. “Looks like the weather guys got it right this time.”

“I checked the radar. It should be raining in a few minutes. But nothing serious.”

“Good. I don’t have time to go hiding out in a cellar.”

“I should check the one out back. Dalton never used it. One of his duties is weather spotter, so if it’s nasty, he’s out in the thick of it. The pest control folks come around on a regular schedule. They spray outside the houses and in the cellars. That normally takes care of the spiders, scorpions, and everything else. From spring to fall, I inspect the one at headquarters about once a month anyway. Don’t want to make a mad dash to safety in a storm and race right back out again.”

“I think I’m glad we never had a cellar. Now I’m not sure I’d want to go down there.”

“As long as the creepy crawlies are vanquished, it’s okay.”

She headed toward the kitchen. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of spiders.”

He followed and pulled out a chair from the table. Turning it around, he straddled it and rested his arms on the back. “Only the ones that bite, like black widows and brown recluse. It’s not like I’m going to faint if I see one.”

“Just run the other way,” she said with a grin. “Smart man. I’d be waddling along right behind you.”

He slapped his palm against his chest. “I’m crushed that you’d think I’d leave you behind.”

“There’s no way I could keep up with you.”

“I’d carry you, silly woman. No fast waddling necessary.”

“I don’t go anywhere fast lately.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that. By the way, your cakes look fantastic. I peeked.”

“Thank you.” She turned toward the sink and stared at it for a second, then met his gaze with wide eyes. “You washed the dishes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

“Aren’t you proud of me?” He gave her an impish smile.

“Yes. Actually, I’m amazed. I assumed you’d never washed a dish in your life.”

“Honey, I’m a bachelor.” He pretended to pout. “Nobody washes my dishes but me.”