Free How a Cowboy Stole Her Heart by Donna Alward

accuse her of hiding away then. “What the heck, you guys. In for a penny, in for a pound, eh?”
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    For the tenth time in as many minutes, Clay fiddled with his bow tie. He’d hoped Stacy would have gone in for a more casual Western wedding, where he could have worn his good boots and a bolo. At least then he might have felt slightly at home in this monkey suit. But no, she’d gone for the whole hog. Black tuxedo, strangling bow tie, shoes so shiny he could see his reflection. The white rose boutonniere was pinned to his lapel courtesy of Meg’s mother, who’d been at the house helping the bride get ready. The pianist was playing something softand classical for the arriving guests. Clay smiled tightly and nodded at a neighbor who had just arrived—in white shirt and bolo tie. “Isn’t he lucky,” Clay grumbled under his breath.
    He was nervous. Mike Schuyler, the groom, seemed more relaxed than Clay was, shaking hands with the minister and preparing to make his way to the front of the church. Clay checked his watch and adjusted the cuffs of his jacket. Stacy was due any second with Linda beside her. He’d caught a glimpse of the bride before he’d headed to the church. Stacy’s simple white dress suited her perfectly. It was hard to believe that the woman who’d raised him was getting married. He was thrilled for her. And he liked Mike.
    But giving her away was going to be difficult. She was, in all but one sense of the word, his mother. And placing his mother into another man’s keeping was a difficult thing to do.
    A hand clapped on to his shoulder. “God, you look like you could use a nip of something,” Dawson greeted him with a wide smile. “Relax. It’s not like you’re the one getting hitched.”
    Clay forced a smile. No, it wasn’t him. Thank God. This was torture enough. Standing up at the front of the church? It wasn’t likely that would ever happen. “Dawson. And Tara. You look great.”
    Tara smiled shyly at him and put her arm through Dawson’s. “Thanks, Clay.”
    If Dawson was here then Meg must be, too. Clay hadn’t seen her since last week when he’d popped over to the Briggs ranch to talk to Dawson about renting out a block of land for grazing. Meg’s words about the Briggs’s struggles had stayed with him and the arrangement would benefit both operations. Meg had been talking to the vet, herback to him and that awful ugly hat on her head. Before he left he’d quickly asked, “Are we still on for the wedding?” She’d answered that she’d meet him at the church.
    What had he expected? It’s not like it was a real date. She was a friend. She was his wingman, right? She was going to help him get through the evening and he’d be by her side as she faced the town again. And at the barn she’d acted like it was nothing to her at all. He frowned a little.
    â€œDid Meg come with you?”
    Dawson’s grin widened. “She sure did.”
    â€œI think she went to the powder room,” Tara suggested.
    Dawson’s grin faded a touch. “I’ll admit I was surprised when she said you were going together.”
    Clay met Dawson’s steady gaze. “As friends without other dates. That’s all.”
    Dawson’s gaze was unerring. “Good. She needs support, you know? But not complications. Not after what she’s been through.”
    â€œAnd you consider me a complication?” Clay was tall but Dawson was a bit taller and right now it annoyed Clay a lot to have to look up at his best friend, especially when Dawson spoke with that hint of warning deepening his voice.
    â€œI’m just saying we all know your history, Clay. Be careful.”
    â€œIt’s just Meg. Nothing to worry about, so you don’t need to act all big brother with me.”
    Dawson frowned. “Well, you haven’t seen her yet.” He