Читать книгу A Sparkle In The Cowboy's Eyes - Peggy Moreland, Peggy Moreland - Страница 8

One

Merideth lay back against the warm stones, letting the sun seep into her skin to work its healing magic on her body, on her mind. A month had passed since she’d arrived at the Double-Cross Heart Ranch, battered and bruised, both physically and emotionally.

The bruises on her body had faded now, but those on her heart were still tender, a constant reminder of her loss. A son, she had been told, born much too early to survive.

Tears budded in her eyes and blurred the clouds drifting across the blue sky above her. She’d brought him home with her and buried him in the family plot next to her mother. Now they lay side by side—the mother she’d never known, and the child she would never hold. Placing him there had seemed fitting somehow, and it eased the ache a little, for she knew that her mother was in heaven to greet her grandson, to gather him close within her angel wings and to watch over him.

Merideth closed her eyes behind the dark sunglasses, squeezing back the tears. Even though she was home, back on the Double-Cross and surrounded by family, she felt so alone. So utterly and terribly alone. There was no child to lavish her love on, no husband with whom to share her grief. There was only Merideth. Merideth McCloud. Soap-opera star extraordinaire. The woman whose face and body men all over the world lust after... the same face and body that women all over the world despised her for. Her life-style was envied, her wealth whispered about over cocktails....

She almost laughed out loud.

She had no wealth. The life-style she’d chosen had robbed her of that. Clothes, jewelry, travel. The good life. That’s what she’d sought when she first moved to New York City. Fame, adoring fans, her name bandied about in gossip columns, linked with those of wealthy and handsome men. She’d wanted excitement, too, and adventure. And she’d had it all...but in retrospect it all seemed foolish, meaningless when stacked up against what she’d lost.

But regrets were senseless in Merideth’s opinion, and only a crutch used by the weak and foolish to atone for their mistakes. Merideth was neither weak nor foolish. She was a McCloud. She had the McCloud spirit, the McCloud pride. She was a fighter, a survivor. She’d suffered other tragedies in her life and triumphed. She’d survive this one, too.

But how? she wondered. She kept her money problems secret from her sisters. She knew that both Sam and Mandy would willingly give her the shirts off their backs if she asked, but she wouldn’t. Her pride wouldn’t let her, not when her sisters had succeeded where she had failed. They’d spent their inheritances both wisely and frugally, with an eye to their futures, while Merideth had squandered hers selfishly and foolishly.

They’d chosen the men in their lives with the same wisdom, the same care as they’d chosen their investments, men with integrity, men who loved and lived with a passion as wide as the Texas sky. Mandy had Jesse. Sam, Nash. But who did Merideth have?

No one...at least not now.

She’d chosen the men in her life in much the same way she’d spent her inheritance—foolishly, basing her selections on image, on power, not on the person within. Her last and biggest mistake had been Marcus. Her producer, her lover, the father of her child. A man with wealth and connections, a powerful and handsome man. A man without a conscience or scruples, a man without a heart or soul.

Angry with herself for even thinking of him, she shoved the thought away and focused again on her most pressing problem.

Money. Or the lack thereof.

She needed a job. But where? What? She didn’t want to go back to New York. She couldn’t. But she had no other skills to offer. What else could an actress do but act?

A sigh shuddered through her and she rolled to her stomach, blocking out the depressing thoughts. How could she contemplate the future when she hadn’t successfully dealt with the past, when at the moment, even the present seemed too much for her to deal with?

John Lee Carter reined his horse to a stop high on the cliff above the spring-fed pond, looked down...and almost fell out of his saddle. Expecting to find stray calves, instead he found a woman—a gorgeous, naked woman—stretched out, sunbathing, on one of the smooth limestone boulders that concealed the natural spring feeding the small pond. Blond hair haloed a stunning face with features so perfect they seemed unreal, as if shaped by a sculptor’s clever hand.

Perspiration pearled on her skin and pooled in the valley between her breasts, drawing his gaze there. He let his eyes drift along the graceful lines of her body, taking in the swell of breasts, the smooth stomach, the deep curve of waist. She lay with one knee raised, shadowing a nest of blond curls at the juncture of her thighs. An arm draped carelessly across her forehead shaded her eyes further from the bright sunlight.

Merideth McCloud.

Even at this distance, John Lee recognized her. He’d heard she was back in town. He’d also heard the reason why she was there. He shook his head, bracing his hands against his saddle horn, his gaze lingering on the woman below. Seemed even the rich and famous couldn’t escape the tragedies in life. As a man who’d served his own time in the limelight, John Lee knew that all too well.

Talk was that she’d suffered a nervous breakdown after losing a baby. But John Lee knew better than that. Oh, he didn’t doubt she’d lost a baby, but he did question the part about her having a nervous breakdown. Not Merideth McCloud. She was way too strong for that.

Always ripe with the juiciest news, the local grapevine had it that Merideth had come home alone to bury her baby. Though the lack of a husband shocked some, it didn’t faze John Lee. This was the nineties, after all, and more and more women were opting for single motherhood.

As he watched her, he thought he saw a shudder pass through her. Then she turned, shifting onto her stomach, blocking his view of her face. But her backside was almost as interesting as her front. Dimples winked at him from above a nicely rounded butt.

John Lee chuckled as he turned his horse for the well-worn path.

Merideth always was a flirt.

“Don’t you know that it’s a crime to sunbathe nude in Austin?”

Startled by the male voice, Merideth jerked up her head. Though a cowboy hat shaded the face of the man sitting on the tall bay standing opposite her, she recognized him immediately. That cocksure grin. Those broad shoulders, thick thighs. Sun-bleached, sandy-blond hair that brushed his collar. Eyes as blue as a summer Texas sky, that always seemed to tease. Features carved into a breathtakingly handsome face.

John Lee Carter.

His grin deepened. “They’ve even outlawed skinny-dipping at Hippie Hollow on Lake Travis. A crying shame, too, if you ask me. Personally, I’ve always thought of the human body as kinda like art, something meant to be appreciated.”

Another time, Merideth might have agreed with him, even flirted with him and invited him to join her on the warm rock.

But not today.

Today she felt nothing but resentment that he’d invaded her privacy and disrupted her solitude, something she so rarely found on the Double-Cross.

Planting her elbows on the rock, she tipped her sunglasses to the end of her nose. From the devilish gleam in his eye, she could tell that he was enjoying the fact that he had caught her at a disadvantage—him being fully dressed, and she wearing nothing but her birthday suit. She narrowed an eye at him. “Well, it’s good to know that some things never change,” she offered dryly. “John Lee Carter is still seeking cheap thrills.”

He tossed back his head and laughed. “And you’re still as sassy as you always were.”

He continued to grin at her, and Merideth knew that he was just being ornery. He’d love nothing better than to watch her squirm in embarrassment at being caught sunbathing nude, but Merideth refused to give him the pleasure. She met his gaze squarely, evenly. “Are you going to sit there all day gawking, or are you going to turn your back so that I can get dressed?”

He squinted up at the sun as if pondering the question, then dropped his gaze to hers, a slow smile crooking one corner of his mouth. “I don’t know, the view’s pretty good from up here. But, then again, I wouldn’t want you to burn. How much sunscreen are you wearing?”

The look Merideth shot him was glacial. “Not enough.” She stabbed a finger at the bridge of her sunglasses, shooting them back into place on her nose, then grabbed for the towel beneath her. Quickly, she sat up, wrapping it around her...but not before John Lee caught one last glimpse of those luscious breasts.

He let out a low whistle that turned Merideth’s frown into a scowl. With a huff, she tucked one comer of the towel between her breasts to hold it in place, then tipped her face up to his. “What are you doing here, anyway? This is private property, you know.”

“Just picking up a few strays that wandered onto Double-Cross land.” He plucked a toothpick from his hatband and stuck it between his teeth, then lazily rolled it to one corner of his mouth. “What are you doing here? You decide to give up acting and take up ranching?”

She quickly glanced away. “Maybe,” she replied, fixing her gaze on something in the distance.

John Lee blinked hard to make sure it was Merideth he was talking to. Maybe? His comment had been meant as a joke, one he figured would get a rise out of Merideth. Hell, she hated the Double-Cross, always had, and had hightailed it for New York right after her old man died. He was sure her stay on the Double-Cross was a temporary one, that once she’d fully recovered from the accident he’d heard she was involved in, she’d haul ass right back to the Big Apple and her career there as an actress.

“You’re giving up acting?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

Maybe, again. What in the hell is going on with her? he wondered as he stared at her profile. Though her chin was tipped in that I’m-the-queen-of-the-manor look she wore so well, he sensed more than saw the quiver in it.

She’s still grieving, he realized, then wanted to kick himself for his own insensitivity. “I was sorry to hear about your baby,” he offered gently.

She dropped her chin to her chest and with trembling fingers began to pluck at the towel that draped her thigh. Her murmured “Thank you” was so low it was almost lost on the soft breeze that carried it to John Lee.

She looked so pitiful sitting there that John Lee regretted even mentioning her loss. “Are you staying up at the ranch house?” he asked, hoping to shift the conversation to a less sensitive topic.

A sigh lifted her shoulders. “Yes, though it’s awkward since Mandy and Jesse married.”

“You’ve stayed there before with them,” he reminded her.

“But Sam was still there then. Now she’s married and living with Nash on his ranch.” She drew her knees up, hugging them to her chest. “She’s at the Double-Cross almost every day, but it’s just not the same. I feel as if I don’t belong there anymore, that I’m a burden to everyone, though they assure me I’m not.”

They were spoiling her again, John Lee decided. He’d grown up with the McCloud sisters and had witnessed firsthand how both Mandy and Sam coddled their little sister. They were probably so busy hovering over Merideth, smothering her with attention, that they didn’t realize that they were only making things worse for her.

Merideth didn’t need spoiling. What she needed—in his mind, at least—was a swift kick in the butt to get her up and running again. As her friend, he figured it his duty to give her that kick.

“So why don’t you move out?” he challenged her. “You’re a big girl.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “Move out? But where would I go? What would I do?”

That she would even ask him those questions convinced John Lee that he was right. Merideth needed help, and fast. A distraction, he decided. That’s what she needed. Something to take her mind off her loss, her problems.

And he had just the distraction she needed.

He braced a forearm over the saddle horn and leaned down. “How about dinner tonight? My place. I’ll throw a couple of steaks on the grill, ice down a few beers and we’ll talk about your options. Whaddya say, Merideth?”

“I don’t know, John Lee,” she murmured, resting her chin on the tops of her knees. “I’m not very good company right now.”

“So when were you ever?” He chuckled when her chin came up, her blue eyes sparking fire. Yep, he could still get a rise out of her. Not all was lost...yet.

“Seven sharp,” he told her. “Be ready.” He wheeled his horse around and loped away before she could refuse his invitation.

Merideth sat before her mirror, studying her reflection. Her eyes were dull, her face pale—in spite of the hours she’d spent sunbathing—and her cheeks hollow, a result of the weight she’d lost.

Grief was not a pretty sight.

With the hand of an artist she applied makeup, shading some areas of her face, adding color to others, until she’d created the mask she needed—one that her sisters would never see beyond.

But could she fool John Lee?

When he’d caught her sunbathing nude earlier that afternoon, her body wasn’t all she’d unintentionally bared to him. She’d bared her soul as well.

But not tonight. Not ever again. Merideth McCloud never displayed her weaknesses or her desires. She’d learned early in life that doing so gave people power over her...and no one would ever control her again.

With a defiant shake of her head, she pulled the band from her hair and combed her fingers through the thick blond locks, lifting and adding height and volume.

Rising she took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the upcoming performance, the same one she’d given every day since she’d arrived at the ranch to keep her sisters from worrying about her, from guessing the depth of her grief, the extent of her financial problems.

As she did when she took on any role, she closed her eyes and focused inwardly, emptying her mind of every thought, her heart of every emotion, until she was hollow, a vessel waiting to be filled, a mound of clay waiting to be shaped.

Merideth McCloud. The most difficult role she’d ever taken on. The youngest of Lucas McCloud’s three daughters. The one without a care in the world but her own wants and desires. The one with the attitude.

Slowly she felt the tension ease from her shoulders and the energy begin to surge through her. She opened her eyes, one eyebrow arching a little higher than the other, her lips already curving into the sultry pout she was known for. She winked and the reflection winked back.

She’d found her, the old Merideth, and she’d be her...at least for the moment.

“Does she know?”

Mandy shook her head, but kept dusting, nerves making her movements jerky. “I don’t think so. If she did, surely she would have said something.”

“Should we tell her?”

Mandy stopped her dusting and turned to Sam, who had, as each of them did when one of the three was in need, responded to Mandy’s call for help. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and worried it. “If we do, I’m afraid she won’t go and I really think this might be good for her. She thinks she’s fooling us with this front she’s putting up, but I know she’s hurting inside. She needs to get out more and be around other people. Moping around here all day certainly isn’t helping.”

“Yeah, but is going to John Lee’s the answer?”

Mandy wrapped the dust cloth around her fingers and nervously twisted. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” Merideth asked as she strolled into the room. Dressed in a gauzy calf-length dress, she trailed a light, seductive scent in her wake.

Mandy shared a quick worried look with Sam. Frantically, she searched for a response, anything but the truth. “I don’t know where all this dust comes from,” she said with a sudden inspiration, quickly turning to push the cloth along the mantel once again.

Merideth raised her arms above her head and stretched catlike. “I don’t know why you even bother,” she said, stifling a bored yawn. “The furniture will just be covered again tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Mandy agreed, “but there’ll be one less layer of dust.”

Merideth shifted her gaze to Sam. “What are you doing here this late?”

“Making a vet call.” The lie came easily to Sam, because it could have so easily been the truth. She was often called to tend to a sick animal on the Double-Cross. She gave Merideth the once-over, pretending she didn’t already know her younger sister’s plans. “What are you all gussied up for?”

With a resigned sigh, Merideth sank onto the sofa next to her. “I’m going to John Lee’s for dinner. I saw him while I was out sunbathing at Cypress Pond. He caught me—well, off guard,” she said with a flutter of her hand that sent the gold bangles at her wrist clinking together musically. “When he offered the invitation, I didn’t have my wits enough about me to refuse before he rode off.”

“You don’t want to go?” Sam asked.

“Heavens, no!”

“Sure you do,” Mandy insisted as she ran the dust cloth over the mantel one last time. “It’ll be good for you to get out and have a little fun for a change.”

Merideth angled her chin to peer at Mandy from beneath a neatly arched brow. “With a playboy like John Lee?” She snorted. “I seriously doubt an evening with him will be fun.” She fanned her fingers in front of her face, checking her nail polish for any nicks. “Exhausting, maybe,” she added thoughtfully, “but definitely not fun.”

“Exhausting?”

“Yes, from dodging all his passes.”

Mandy laughed and dropped down on the sofa, squeezing in between her two sisters. “You make John Lee sound like some sex-crazed maniac.”

“He is.”

“He is not!”

Merideth turned to her. “How many girls in high school claimed that they’d slept with him?”

Mandy lifted a shoulder. “A few.”

“A few hundred, you mean. And how many women’s names did you hear linked with his during his stint with the NFL?”

“A lot, but then your name’s been linked with quite a few men, as well. I certainly hope that doesn’t mean you slept with them all.”

Merideth lifted her chin. “Certainly not.” She adjusted the band of emerald-cut diamonds on her finger, a gift from one of those men, a millimeter to the left. She smiled smugly. “But then, I have much higher standards than John Lee Carter.”

John Lee shifted uncomfortably in his Porsche’s leather bucket seat, trying his best to find some more room for his cramped legs. He bit back a curse, the pain in his knee threatening his usual good mood. Six hours spent at his desk updating the ranch’s ledgers, and another four spent on horseback scaring up strays from the brush had left him stiff-legged and crankier than a two-year-old in desperate need of a nap. By the time he’d made it back to the house to get cleaned up for his date with Merideth, his knee was swollen and throbbing like a bitch in heat.

Damn that three-hundred-pound ape of a defensive guard who clipped me just below the knees, he cursed silently. Five minutes, he told himself. Five minutes alone with him and John Lee would make that son of a bitch pay for prematurely ending his football career and for the pain he’d live with for the rest of his life.

The pain was so intense, he’d considered calling Merideth to cancel his invitation for dinner and soaking in his whirlpool instead. But then he remembered how much she needed his help...and how much he needed hers.

He stole a look at the passenger seat where Merideth sat, her elbow propped on the edge of the open window, her eyes shaded by dark sunglasses while the wind played havoc with her hair. Maybe he should have canceled, he thought belatedly. Dealing with Merideth was always tough and tonight he really didn’t feel up to the challenge.

Too late now, though, he told himself as his ranch house came into view. With a sigh, he pulled the Porsche up in front of his home and climbed out, then had to wait a second before he was sure his knee was going to support him. “Damn car,” he muttered under his breath as he slammed the door behind him. “No bigger than a matchbox. I ought to sell the damn thing and buy me something with some size to it.”

Merideth tipped down the visor and studied her face in the lighted vanity mirror placed there. She touched the tips of her middle finger and thumb to the corners of her mouth and drew them together, blotting her lipstick. “Why don’t you?” she asked, turning to him.

“Because I like it,” John Lee snapped disagreeably, then headed for the front door of his home.

Merideth frowned at his back. And wasn’t this just her luck? It looked as if she was condemned to spending an evening with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The man who’d teased and laughed and taunted her that very afternoon, was gone and she was left with this scowling, grumpy-faced bear. With a sigh she sank back against the seat.

When he realized she wasn’t following him, he stopped and half turned. “Well?” he asked impatiently. “Are you coming or not?”

Without sparing him a glance, she flipped the visor back into place and lifted her chin. “I’m waiting for you to open my door.”

John Lee turned to face her. He propped his hands on his hips, cocking one hip higher than the other, and scowled. “You aren’t gonna try that prima-donna crap with me, are you? You’re a big girl now. You can open your own damn door.”

She turned her head slowly, one brow arched pointedly. “I thought the code of the West dictated that cowboys must treat women like ladies. I guess I was wrong.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” John Lee grumbled, and rounded the car to jerk open her door. “Get out,” he ordered impatiently.

“My, aren’t we friendly tonight,” she replied dryly. She lifted a hand, waiting for him to take it.

With a low growl, he grabbed her hand and all but yanked her from the seat. “Are you satisfied now?”

With a look of disdain, she turned her back on him. “What you lack in finesse, you certainly make up for with your macho-jock-turned-cowboy charm.”

Her sarcastic remark had the same effect on John Lee as a shot of cortisone had on his knee. Forgetting all about the pain and discomfort in his leg, he tossed back his head and laughed. Macho-jock-turned-cowboy. What a description! And one only Merideth could come up with. Yep, he told himself. There was hope for her after all. He slung an arm around her neck, crushing her hairdo, and headed her toward his house. “Darlin’, you’d be surprised what kind of finesse us macho-jock-turned-cowboys possess.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she replied doubtfully as she slipped a hand beneath his arm and freed her hair.

Once inside, John Lee tossed his hat onto the entry table. “Mrs. Baker, I’m home!” he yelled.

An older woman bustled from the kitchen, stripping an apron from around her thick waist. “Thank goodness,” she puffed, mopping the apron against her damp brow. “I’m ’bout ready to drop.” She wadded the apron into a ball and stuffed it into a purse she retrieved from the coat closet, pausing long enough to stare at Merideth for a moment. When Merideth lifted a brow in reply, the woman turned away with a disapproving huff.

“The salad’s in the refrigerator,” she informed John Lee, “the potatoes in the oven and the steaks on the grill. I set the timer, but you’ll need to turn ’em in about five minutes. I’ve fed the—”

John Lee grabbed her elbow, cutting her off, and hustled her toward the door. “I sure appreciate you taking care of everything, Mrs. Baker. And don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours about a thing. I can handle it from here. See you in the morning.”

Before Mrs. Baker could catch her breath, he’d closed the door in her face. Then he turned and pressed his back against it as if locking out the devil himself. He looked at Merideth and forced a smile. “That was my housekeeper, Mrs. Baker.”

“Oh?” Merideth picked up a glass sculpture of a horse from a marble-topped table and held it to the light, studying the colors. “And here I was thinking she was your mistress.” She smiled sweetly at him as she replaced the sculpture, then turned and wandered into the den.

Nervously jiggling change in his pocket, he trailed her. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he began. “You remember my sister Sissy, don’t you?”

Merideth glanced back over her shoulder. “Well, of course, I remember Sissy.”

“Well, about a month ago, she—” But before he could explain further, a whimpering sound came from behind the kitchen door.

Merideth turned in the direction of the sound. “What was that?”

John Lee caught her arm and dragged her along behind him. “That’s Cassie,” he explained as he tugged Merideth through the kitchen door behind him.

“For pity’s sake, John Lee,” Merideth fussed, trying to wrench free. “You’re going to break my—” She stopped, sucking in a shocked breath when her gaze fell on the source of the whimpering noise. There was a playpen on the kitchen floor and inside it sat a baby, her face red, her mouth opening for a full-blown wail.

Unable to move, Merideth stared, her breath locked tight in her lungs.

“This is who I was going to tell you about,” John Lee explained. He moved to the playpen, scooped up the baby and swung her high in the air. She immediately stopped her wailing and filled her hands with his hair, laughing, her chubby legs chopping at the air.

“Merideth,” he said, settling the baby on his hip, “I’d like you to meet Cassie. Cassie, my girl,” he continued, rubbing his nose against hers, “this here is Merideth McCloud, the sex kitten who stars in that soap Mrs. Baker likes to watch in the afternoon.”

Merideth tore her gaze from the baby to stare at John Lee. “She’s yours?”

“Yes—no. Well, you see—” At that moment the timer went off, signaling that the steaks were ready to be turned, and the baby started howling again. John Lee thrust her toward Merideth. “Take her while I check the steaks.”

Her eyes riveted on the baby, Merideth locked her hands behind her waist and started backing toward the door. “N-no. I—I can’t.”

John Lee danced a moment, from Merideth to the playpen then back, trying to decide what to do. Finally he plopped the baby in the playpen and started out the back door. “Keep an eye on her,” he ordered, aiming a finger at Merideth’s nose. “I’ll be back before you can say scat.”

She stretched out a hand. “John Lee, wait! I—” The door slammed behind him.

The baby continued to wail, and Merideth closed her eyes and flattened her hands over her ears, trying to block out the sound—the same sound that haunted her dreams at night. In the dream, her baby, her son, cried out for her, his pitiful wails tugging at her heart. She would run, searching and searching, following the sound, but he always remained just out of sight, just out of her reach.

The crying continued, rising in intensity. As hard as she tried, Merideth couldn’t block out the sound. She forced open her eyes to find that the baby had knotted her fingers in the mesh sides of the playpen and was hauling herself to a wobbly stand. Fat, frustrated tears streaked down her face and dripped off her chin. Releasing her tentative hold on the mesh, the baby held out her arms to Merideth.

Emotion pushed at Merideth’s throat, choking her, while pain ripped through her chest like a knife, slashing at her heart.

She pressed her fists against her lips, fighting back the tears, until her knuckles turned as white as her face.

Oh, God, she begged silently, please help me. I can’t bear this. I can’t!

With a broken sob, she whirled and ran from the room.

John Lee stepped into the kitchen just as the front door slammed. Seconds later his Porsche’s powerful engine roared to life. Over it all he heard Cassie’s lusty squalls.

“Damn,” he muttered as he shoved the platter of steaks onto the counter. “Damn. Damn. Triple damn, hell!”

Merideth raced down the highway, the wind whipping her hair around to sting her face. Tears burned behind her eyes and clotted her throat, but she held them back. She wouldn’t cry. Not yet. With each shift of gears, she pushed the accelerator harder against the floor, trying to outrun the sound of the baby’s cries, the plea in the child’s watery eyes, the tiny arms stretched out to her.

But she couldn’t. They echoed in her mind and squeezed at her chest until she felt as if she were suffocating beneath them. Why had John Lee done this to her? she silently cried. She’d always known he was ornery, but she’d never known him to be cruel. Surely he must know how fresh her pain was, how difficult it would be for her to see another baby so soon after the loss of her own.

At look-out point, she spun the steering wheel to the left, careening onto the small paved space, then slammed on the brakes. Jerking on the emergency brake, she sank down in the seat, the pain in her chest deep and debilitating.

Her son. Her infant son.

She’d seen him only once, the glimpse as quick as the sweep of a butterfly’s wings, the memory hazy as if viewed through a winter morning’s fog. She’d never held him close to her heart, never cuddled him to her breast. Yet, she had yearned to. Oh, God, how she had yearned to.

The wad of emotion that filled her throat rose higher, choking her. With no one and nothing but the cactus and the rocks and the darkening sky to witness her grief, Merideth covered her face with her hands and let the tears fall.