Between Sisters

Meghann stumbled back, too surprised by the gesture to respond. Afterward, she wished she’d hugged Claire in return. “Dinner smells good, but you didn’t have to cook. I wanted to take you out. ”

“The Chuck Wagon smorgasbord isn’t exactly your style. I didn’t want to hear about it. ”

“Oh. ”

“Anyway, come in. It’s been too long since you were here. ”

“You’ve never been to my place. ”

Claire looked at her. “It’s called small talk, Meg. I wasn’t picking a fight. ”

“Oh,” Meghann said again, feeling like an idiot.

She followed Claire to the sofa and sat down beside her. She couldn’t help noticing the ridiculous engagement ring—a band of tinfoil, for God’s sake. It was good she’d come up here. There was no point in putting it off. “Claire, I think—”

Then he walked into the room. Meghann knew instantly why her sister had fallen so hard. Bobby might be a loser as a singer, but he was a winner in the looks department. He was tall and lean, but broad-shouldered, with blond hair that fell almost to his shoulders. When he smiled, it was with his whole face.

A man like this didn’t just sweep you off your feet; he twirled you into the air so far and fast there was nowhere to go but down.

He and Claire exchanged a look that radiated love. Meg was reminded of The Way We Were, that paean to the bittersweet truth that sometimes the wrong man could look so good he took your breath away.

But sooner or later a woman had to breathe.

“I’m Bobby Austin,” he said, smiling.

Meghann rose to her feet and shook his hand. “Meghann Dontess. ”

“Claire says folks call you Meg. ”

“My friends do, yes. ”

He smiled. “I’m judging by that bite-on-a-lemon look of yours that you’d like me to stick with Miz Dontess. ”

“I imagine those mountain girls in Arkansas think you’re charming. ”

“The Texas girls sure did. ” He put an arm around Claire. “But those days are behind me now. I’ve found the girl I want to grow old with. ” He kissed Claire lightly on the cheek and squeezed her hand, then he took the wine bottle and walked into the kitchen.

In the few moments he was gone, Meghann stood there, staring at her sister, trying to choose her words with care, but nothing seemed quite right.

Bobby returned with two glasses of wine and handed one to Meghann. “I imagine you have some questions for me,” he said, sitting down.

His forthrightness threw Meghann off. Slowly, feeling a little uncertain, she sat down in the chair opposite the sofa. They were separate entities now: Bobby and Claire versus Meghann. “Tell me about yourself. ”

“I love Claire. ”

“Something substantive. ”

“You’re a facts-and-figures, gal, huh? I’m thirty-seven years old. Graduated from Oklahoma State. Degree in music appreciation. Rodeo scholarship. I was a calf roper. Which is why my knees are gone. I’ve . . . been married. ”

Meghann leaned forward, on alert. “How many times?”

He glanced at Claire. “Three. ”

“Oh, shit. ” Meghann looked at Claire. “You’ve got to be kidding. If marriages were felonies, he’d be in prison for life. ”

He scooted forward. “I married Suellen when we were eighteen years old. She was pregnant, and where I come from—”

“You’ve got kids?”