Dance With the Wind - Page 44/108

"I hope to meet her soon," she said.

"You will," he said, smiling. "I see you have one of her bracelets." He placed his hand on her wrist. Her pulse quickened while his hand lingered.

"My birthday present from Brett," she said. "Speaking of, are you ready to tell me why you two don't talk?"

Colby pulled his hand away and laughed. "Let him tell you."

Shaking her head, Megan glared at him. "I'll be old and gray when I hear this story. Give me a hint." When the door creaked, she looked past Colby and smiled. "Hello, Gray Cloud," she said, sitting up straighter.

"Hello, Megan. Hello, Colby. You made your grandmother's day," Gray Cloud said, his voice reserved. "Thank you. It meant the world to her to have you at home."

"It was nice visiting her." Colby glanced towards Gray Cloud then looked at Megan as if to ask what he should do.

Neither man wavered in the silence. Megan wondered who would make the first move and utter the first word. She looked between them as minutes passed without anything. When she realized Circle M was not working her magic with these two, she stepped in.

"Enough, already," Megan said, standing. "Don't either of you mess up this opportunity." She looked at both of them, willing them to look at each other. When they shared a glance she said, "You both want and need this. Take your time, but please don't leave before you've talked. Now I'm going to the house to fix lunch. Please join us after you visit."

With her shoulders straight and her head held high, she paraded past them. Someone had to push them together. "Please help them find middle ground. They may not get another chance," she whispered.

As she neared the house, clanking pots and pans and running water changed Megan's attitude. She sprinted inside, knowing, without doubt, who was working. "Tracy, why are you out of bed?" she scolded, her eyes wide open with shock.

"I hate sitting around," the woman said. "Anyway, this little one is restless." She ran her hand over her large stomach. Though her long red hair was braided, tendrils of hair were askew. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her usual pale skin looked flushed.

"Sit and let me prepare lunch," Megan said, worried about Tracy.

When Tracy moved, she grabbed her stomach, hunching over. "It's time."