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Meeting Megan Again
“Oh…” Eleanor waved her hand about in a vague dismissing motion. “We older folks have our aches and pains. You mustn’t pay any mind.”
“Your letter—”
“Don’t fuss, dear.”
If Megan hadn’t been watching closely, she wouldn’t have seen the nearly imperceptible shake of Eleanor’s head, or the way her fingers tightened around Tyler’s much larger hand.
What did it mean?
Eleanor was such a strong woman. She worked long hours at the church, rarely complained, and was generous to a fault. If she had one shortcoming, it was her persistent effort to marry off the unmarried members of her family—an effort that extended to widowed granddaughters-in-law.
Megan sat back on her heels, a cold sensation rushing down her spine. What if something was terribly wrong with Grams? The thought was so disturbing that she stopped listening to the conversation. It was only when Eleanor asked whether Tyler liked children that her head shot up.
“Grams,” she said, a faint scolding note in her voice.
“Hush, dear. I was asking Tyler a question.”
“Please don’t get any ideas.”
“Now, now.” Eleanor gave her a benevolent smile. “Tyler and I are just catching up. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He sounded amused, but there was a wary glint in his eyes.
“None of that ‘ma’am’ nonsense. You call me Grams, just like Megan.”
“Grams,” Megan repeated firmly. She didn’t want to spend the family reunion fending off Eleanor’s matchmaking efforts, much less have Tyler think she was trying to land herself a husband. A rich husband, no less.
“Yes, dear?” Eleanor had a look of guileless innocence on her face.
“You…we have to talk,” Megan said to Tyler. She jumped up, grabbed his hand and dragged him away.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Megan stormed into the living room and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Of course there’s something wrong, or do you enjoy being grilled on your interest in fatherhood?”
“Oh, that.”
“What do you mean, oh that?” she demanded.
“Every Christmas Eleanor asks if I’ve met a nice girl yet. And then she says how nice it would be if I started a family. She’s just being polite.”
“No,” Megan said with a distinct lack of patience. “Grams thinks I should get married again, and since she’s so fond of you, she’s decided we’d be an ideal couple. And I’m not interested in getting married again,” she added hastily.
“Tell her.”
“It’s…complicated. I don’t want to upset her, not with her health so questionable.”
“Oh, yes.” Tyler rocked forward, his attention focused on Megan. She was really worried. “What exactly is wrong with Eleanor? You heard her brush me off when I asked, but I know something is going on.”
Megan sighed. “I don’t know. She claims she’s fine, but her color is bad and she’s losing weight. She hardly eats anything, even when I bring her favorite dishes over to the house. Heck, her mother-in-law is doing better than she is.”
“Yes…Grandmother Rose,” Tyler said slowly. “She turned a hundred last year.”
“That’s right. We had a big party for her. Invitations went out to everyone.”
He sighed. “I know. I sent a gift.”
“She would rather have seen you.”
Tyler wanted to believe it was true, that his presence would have been more pleasing than the flowers and fine jewelry he’d sent. But he didn’t belong with the family. Grandmother Rose wasn’t really his great-grandmother, she was a distant relation to him, like the rest of the O’Bannons.
He didn’t know what to say to them, and he usually ended up feeling like a buffalo stomping around in a field of clover. Now, after years of perspective and finding success in his life, he was perfectly willing to admit it was his own fault.
“Why didn’t you come, Tyler?” Megan asked. “Grams was so sure you’d come for Rose’s party.”
He couldn’t answer, couldn’t explain that he hadn’t wanted to see her so soon after Brad’s death. How could he reveal that the reason that had kept him away was the very same reason he’d come to the reunion?
And the reason was Megan.
Chapter Two
Warning tension crept though Tyler and he shook his head. It was wiser, not to mention safer, to concentrate on something else.
Anything else.
Megan might be a widow now, but she was his cousin’s widow, however distant that relationship might have been. Tyler cleared his throat, looking for something to change the subject. He finally decided it was the direction of his thoughts that needed changing.
“Look, why are you so bothered by Eleanor’s matchmaking?” he asked.
Megan blew a strand of hair from her forehead. “I just don’t want Grams getting her hopes up. About either of us.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll only be here for a few days, then things can go right back to the way they were.”
“You don’t know anything about the way things were,” Megan countered. “I mean…not that you should know, and I’m not criticizing or anything, but you’ve been gone and I’ve been here and…and…,” she stuttered to silence.
Interesting.
She looked flustered and tongue-tied, a condition that made Tyler want to smile. “Yes?” he prompted, enjoying this previously unseen side of Megan.
“Uh…that is, I know I’m not blood family, but…” She stopped again and lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug.
“The O’Bannons don’t care about blood ties.”
“Then why did…you…uhm…” Megan stuttered into silence a third time and Tyler couldn’t control his grin.
“Why what?”
She ran her palms over her thighs in a nervous gesture. “Eleanor mentioned it was a little tense when you lived with them—that you kept saying you weren’t really family, and why should they bother? And…well, you did stay away for a long time.”
Tyler’s grin faded. The issue of his childhood was a sore subject, though not because of the O’Bannons. He’d been raised in a boys’ group home, made to feel like a charity case because he didn’t have any “family.” By the time Grady and Eleanor arrived on the scene his pride had grown to such immense, angry proportions that even an army tank couldn’t have put a dent in it.
And what could they have said, anyway? They’d taken him out of duty, not love. He might respect that choice now, but it didn’t make any difference.
“Staying away is my concern,” he replied stiffly, then kicked himself. The charming, flustered expression on Megan’s face vanished and she bit her lip.
“Sorry. But you did ask.”
“Yeah.” Tyler ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. Some things never seemed to change. His pride continued getting in the way, especially in relation to Megan. He couldn’t have pursued her nine years ago because of his cousin, but it still rankled to think he wouldn’t have had a chance. There was so much that had never been said between them, he was at a loss, not knowing what to say now.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she murmured, sounding more tentative than before. “It means so much to Eleanor that you’ve come to the reunion. Grady will be thrilled, too.”
Tyler looked at Megan, a frown creasing his forehead. He’d built up a lot of ideas about her over the years, ideas about her marrying Brad mostly because he was charming and handsome and belonged to the right social class. He supposed it was a way of protecting himself, because he’d taken one look at Megan at her engagement party and found himself thinking about fairy tales and happy endings.
Impossible endings.
Now Megan belonged to the family in a way he never could, and it was still impossible. “You really love them, don’t you?” he asked quietly. “The O’Bannons.”
Megan’s head snapped back, irritation swamping other emotions in her eyes. “Of course I love them. You don’t understand. You never understood,” she muttered angrily and not too clearly.
“Understood what?”
“Nothing. It’s not important.”
“It seems important to you.”
She gave him a look that suggested he was a low-level moron. “Go outside and visit with everybody. If there’s anyone you don’t recognize I’m sure Grams or Kara will make the necessary introductions.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Check on dinner.” Without giving him a chance to say anything else, Megan hurried away.
It was on the tip of Tyler’s tongue to call after her, asking why she didn’t have a maid or cook to handle that kind of detail, but he stopped himself just in time. The California Gold Country was a beautiful place and attracted interesting tourists, but bed and breakfast inns were hard work. If Brad had left Megan a ton of money, she probably wouldn’t be in the hotel business in the first place.
Tyler whistled under his breath. That was something he hadn’t considered. He’d assumed Megan and her daughter were well-provided for, but what if they weren’t?
He walked back into the garden and gazed around. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, putting warmth into the crisp October air. Various members of the family were heading for the house and they stopped, greeting him. They didn’t say anything about his long absence, just how glad they were that he’d made it to the reunion.
“Tyler? Has Megan thoroughly warned you off?” Eleanor asked as she stood and draped a quilted lap robe over her arm. “She puts up huge No Trespassing signs, but underneath she’s a very sweet girl.”
“I’m sure.”
Eleanor chuckled at his wry tone. “You never understood Megan, but that’s all right. Give it some time.”
You never understood….
Tyler frowned thoughtfully. Megan had just accused him of the same thing, or at least of generally not understanding. It was probably a feminine thing. And he couldn’t disagree—women were damned hard to understand.
“Tyler?” Eleanor said, putting her hand on his arm. “You do like Megan, don’t you? I know she can be prickly, but that’s because she’s been hurt.”
He winced, realizing Megan was right about one thing—Eleanor was matchmaking. “Of course I like her,” he said automatically, knowing it was the only answer he could give that wouldn’t make things worse.
“Good. It’s been hard for her since Brad…” Eleanor’s voice shook.
“I know you miss him.”
“Mostly I miss what he should have been,” she said sadly. “The boy made such a mess of things. Then he got himself killed that way and made things worse.”
Tyler’s eyes shot wide open.
Brad O’Bannon had been an extremely charming playboy with parents who indulged his every wish. Apparently he’d never changed. He was the one member of the family Tyler had never really cared for, but it was a surprise to hear Eleanor say something critical about her grandson. It also sounded as if there was more to Brad’s death than a simple car crash.
“Well, now, look who’s here!” Grady O’Bannon exclaimed suddenly, charging across the garden with the energy of a man half his age.
“Hello, sir.”
Grady drew Tyler into a hug, thumping him on the back with hearty enthusiasm. “It’s good to see you again, lad. We missed you.”
“It’s good to be here,” Tyler said uncomfortably. He was coming to the conclusion it was easier to run a marathon than visit the family he’d never known that well in the first place.
“Tyler,” Kara called, offering a welcome distraction. “Mom said to give you time to settle in, but we’re getting ready to go to the ball field.” She held out her hand with shy anticipation in her eyes. “Are you ready?”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
“I want Tyler on our team,” Kara exclaimed. They’d just arrived at the ball field and the youngster tumbled from the car with more enthusiasm than grace.
“Maybe I’ll just watch,” Tyler said. “There seem to be more than enough players.”
“Oh. But are you sure?” she asked. “It’s loads of fun.”
“Sweetheart, don’t pester Tyler,” Megan said. “He doesn’t have to play if he doesn’t want to.”
“Sorry.”
Kara looked so disappointed that Tyler sighed and found himself agreeing to join the team.
“Yippee! I’m going to tell Reece. He’s the other captain.” Kara immediately dashed away, heading for the tall, brown-haired man who had arrived at the field ahead of them. They’d come in a dozen different vehicles, most of them filled to capacity. Nobody wanted to miss one of the family softball games, even if they didn’t actively participate.
“Isn’t Kara a little young for softball?” Tyler asked.
“Anyone who wants to participate, gets to,” Megan murmured. “But you don’t have to go along just for Kara. I know you aren’t used to children and don’t play softball that often. Not in San Francisco. Besides, you work in an office with secretaries and stuff all calling you sir. That magazine said you—” The words froze in her throat as Tyler caught her elbow and swung her around.
“So you think that’s why I don’t want to play? Because of an idiotic magazine article?”
His eyes blazed at her and she swallowed. Well, too bad. Megan lifted her chin. He wasn’t going make her tongue-tied and incoherent. Not this time. She tried to shake his fingers away from her elbow, but without success.
“Jeez,” she muttered. “You don’t have to make a federal case out of it.” Maybe if she annoyed Tyler enough he’d leave her alone. It was too confusing having so many different responses to the man. Her body was going hot and cold, her mind was screaming “don’t give him an inch,” and her heart was in full retreat. Tyler wasn’t safe, he was like a panther in the wild—lean and dangerous.
“For your information, my business is property development,” Tyler said. “We specialize in restoring old buildings. That’s how I started out, buying old places, fixing them up, and selling them. I wasn’t born rich and I haven’t forgotten how to swing a hammer and work hard.”
“Like I said, you don’t have to make a federal case out of it,” she snapped. “What’s wrong with you? I was trying to be considerate, that’s all. I love my daughter, but kids can be exhausting and Kara isn’t any exception.”
“Sorry.”
She looked at him suspiciously but he seemed sincere. His fingers gentled, stroking the soft inner skin of her arm.
“Did I hurt you?” he whispered.
“No…of course not.”
“I’m just sensitive about that article.” Tyler grinned lopsidedly. “I thought the magazine was going to write a real story about the importance of dedication and hard work, instead they made it sound like I did nothing but eat caviar and chase women all day.”
“Not exact—”
“Mo-o-om, aren’t you guys coming?”
The insistent shout from the softball diamond made Megan jump. “They probably want to get started,” she said.
“Er…right.”
Tyler shook his head as he followed Megan toward the other players. Lord, he was losing his grip. Two hours of exposure to the woman and he was acting like a raving lunatic. On the other hand, it didn’t excuse his behavior, or the things he’d said.
“Hey.” He caught up in two long strides. “Am I forgiven?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not.”
The careless answer tightened his gut, but Tyler gritted his teeth rather than say something else he’d regret. It was much harder than he’d expected to pretend Megan didn’t mean anything to him. Though…male hormones and pride being what they were, he should have realized seeing her again wouldn’t be easy.
Hell, why couldn’t she have grown a third eye or something?
Glancing down at Megan, Tyler knew that wasn’t the answer. He had a dismal feeling she would attract him no matter what. It was as if she exuded some type of chemical that messed with the normal functioning of his brain.
“You’re on our team,” Kara said the minute they got close. “I already told Reece.”
“I see.” Tyler smiled at the child. One of his friends had a daughter close to her age, so he had some experience with kids. Not that much experience, but at least he knew better than to ruffle her hair or treat her like an infant. “How good are they?” he asked, gesturing toward the group clustered around Reece O’Bannon.
“We beat ’em two out of three times last year,” Grady declared. “Nobody gets a run off one of my pitches.”
“Granddad, you know the doctor said you couldn’t play so soon,” Megan scolded. “You’re benched.”
“I can pitch. The shoulder is as good as new.”
“You don’t want to tear that rotator cuff again, so go sit with Grams.” She pointed toward the small stand of bleachers with a no-nonsense look on her face.
Grady muttered something beneath his breath about uppity youngsters who thought they knew better than their elders, but Tyler detected a twinkle in the old man’s eyes.
“I heard that,” Megan said. “And it was your idea to make me captain this year. Now go.”
Grady retreated, though not before offering another protest.
“Eleanor writes every couple months, but she never told me Grady had had surgery,” Tyler said. “He’s what—at least seventy-five? How did he get hurt?”
Megan smiled. “He did it golfing, only he won’t tell us the whole story. And he’s eighty-one.”
Tyler looked toward the bleachers and whistled. If he could be that active at the age of sixty he’d consider himself lucky.
“All right,” Megan said. “Let’s get set up.” She swiftly gave directions to the team, assigning them positions and a batting order.
Good-natured jeering passed between the two teams, and they tossed a coin to determine who would bat first. Megan’s team lost the toss and they scattered to their positions on the diamond.
From his spot at first base Tyler watched her take her place as shortstop. He shouldn’t have taken her comments so seriously, but he didn’t have good sense when it came to Megan.
He was so deep in thought that the crack of a ball hitting wood made his head jerk around. A teenager he didn’t recognize was charging toward first base, determination in each step. There were shouts of “hurry,” “run” and “easy out” from all sides.
The right fielder scrambled after the moving ball and threw it in time for Tyler to tag the first out of the game. The next two outs weren’t so easy, and they barely prevented the other team from scoring, tagging the runner as he rounded third base, headed for home.
“Told ya we’d get you,” Megan told the other captain as they exchanged places on the field.
Reece tugged the braid that had fallen forward over Megan’s shoulder. “It’s just the first half of the first inning, kiddo. We have six and a half to go.”
“I’m not worried. By the way, I like your fiancée,” Megan said, nodding toward the slender blond woman by third base. “She seems really nice.”
“Thanks.” Reece looked uncomfortable for some reason, but there wasn’t time to ask questions, so Megan gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the idea of being married,” she murmured, guessing it might be cold feet affecting him.
“Right.”
He didn’t sound convinced and Megan supposed she wasn’t the most reliable source on the subject of wedded bliss. Most of the family knew about Brad and the way he’d played around. She squeezed Reece’s hand, wishing she could promise him happily-ever-after. Problem was, she didn’t believe in happily-ever-after. She wasn’t sure she ever had.
As for Tyler…Megan watched as he leaned against the fence, ten feet away from the dugout where the rest of the team was waiting. His arms were crossed over his chest and his posture reminded her of someone braced for something.
What?
A blow?
An unwelcome overture from the family? That seemed most likely considering the way he’d never visited. He probably didn’t want to get too friendly.
A small frown gathered between Megan’s eyes.
Tyler confused her; he always had. And his continued resistance to the O’Bannons confused her most of all. Eleanor and Grady loved him and worried about him. They wanted Tyler to be part of the family, but he acted as if they were little more than strangers.
Against her better judgment, Megan walked around the backstop and headed straight for Tyler.
“Why don’t you come over and sit with the team?” she urged softly. “The benches aren’t that comfortable but it gives us all a chance to visit.”
“I’m fine.”
His expression said it all. I’m a loner. Big and tough and able to take care of himself. Megan turned to join the rest of the family, then glanced into the small rise of bleachers and saw Eleanor smiling and nodding encouragement.
Terrific. Grams was bent on matchmaking and she’d played right into the scheme by approaching Tyler for no reason. At least not for a reason that made any sense.
Sighing, Megan shrugged out of her sweatshirt and tied it around her waist. She wasn’t certain whether she liked Tyler, and she was fairly certain he didn’t like her, but she could be a good hostess for the next few days. It wouldn’t kill her.
“It’s a family reunion,” she murmured. “Visiting is our major recreation.”
Tyler looked at her and she saw layers of emotion in his brown eyes that she couldn’t begin to fathom. “People who know each other ‘visit.’ They talk about their lives and the kids and catch up on news since the last time they were together.”
Megan opened her mouth, then closed it just as quickly. Jumping to conclusions would just get her in trouble, and she had a feeling she’d already drifted into deep water. Not that it was a new sensation, Tyler always made her feel out of her depth. After all this time, he still made her feel things she’d rather not think about…things that made her breathless and uneasy in the pit of her stomach.
A chorus of encouraged cries were a welcome distraction and Megan saw that Kara was coming up to bat. “You can do it,” she called.
Kara jauntily balanced the bat over her shoulder and Megan’s heart filled with love. In many ways Kara was older than her years, yet she was sweet and loving and full of enthusiasm. But time was passing so quickly it wouldn’t be long before she was grown. A mixture of pride and pain squeezed Megan’s throat and she sniffed.
“Oh, dear,” Tyler muttered in a low voice. “What’s wrong?”
She blinked away a hovering tear. “Nothing.”
“Right.” He slipped her a handkerchief. “That ‘nothing’ is getting your face wet.”
He sounded gruff but sympathetic, so she sighed. “It’s just that children grow up so fast.”
“So my friends say.”
It was an innocent comment, but it caught her attention.
So my friends say.
Why did that sound so lonely? A man like Tyler probably had more friends than he could count. Still…friends weren’t a substitute for family, she knew that better than anyone.
She looked up and saw him focus on the game with a kind of hungry intensity. Megan pressed a hand to her stomach, unnerved by more than physical awareness.
“I noticed the pitcher is taking it easy on Kara,” Tyler said, motioning toward the mound. “Nice, slow pitches that go straight across the plate.”
She swallowed, trying to get control of herself. “I…I know we sound competitive, but this isn’t the World Series. It’s more important for everyone to have fun than to win,” she said finally.
“I see.” Tyler nodded, his gaze still fixed on the game.
Kara took a swing at her third pitch. The ball connected with a dull thud and bounced toward third base, just inside the foul line. With a gleeful “hurray,” she dropped the bat and ran.
“Go, Kara, go,” cried a dozen voices.
Tyler leaned back against his fence and surveyed the field. It was plain the opposite team wasn’t reacting as quickly as they did with the older players. They were giving Kara a chance to reach first base. To be a part of the game, just as Megan had said.
He didn’t know if child psychologists would approve of their tactics, but it was rather nice. At the same time he would have been furious with the O’Bannons if they’d done anything like that when he was a teenager—he would have accused them of treating him differently, of giving him charity.
Yet all they were doing was being kind.