“Great,” Megan said, trying to ignore the heat that crept across her skin, the way her scar seemed to ache in moments like these, when she became so hyperaware of it.
Mary Westmore kept her gaze firmly anywhere but Megan’s face as they completed the check-in process and Megan walked them upstairs to their room. After she’d gotten them settled, she stood for a moment in the hallway, her back against the wall, one hand pressed against her diaphragm, as she breathed past the tears burning her throat and stinging her eyes.
She shouldn’t let it bother her. It was Mary Westmore’s problem, not Megan’s. She knew this, but it didn’t do anything to quiet the storm raging inside her. She would have to deal with other people’s discomfort with her scars for the rest of her life. So, when would it stop bothering her? How long until she got over her own discomfort with her face? What if that day never came?
* * *
Jake finishedup at the barn early that night, so he’d have plenty of time to get ready for his date with Megan. He’d texted her earlier, suggesting they get dinner in town. It had been so damn long since he’d taken a woman out to dinner. He hadn’t done it since he was old enough to truly enjoy it, and he couldn’t wait to treat Megan to a nice evening out.
He topped off the water troughs in all the pastures and walked to the barn to get Bug and Dusty, who’d been in their stalls since he worked with them earlier, drawing up short when he spied the door to Bug’s stall standing ajar. It had been latched securely when he left. He was sure of it. Tamping back his alarm, he walked briskly to Bug’s stall, alarm morphing into relief as he saw Megan inside, talking quietly to the little horse as she rubbed her neck.
She glanced over at him as he stepped inside the stall. She stood with her lower back against the wall, legs spread for balance as she spoke softly to Bug, who was nosing at her with more interest and affection than Jake had seen yet from the horse. “You ladies having a pow wow in here or what?”
“Yep,” Megan answered, her lips curving slightly. Her hair was in her face, an outward manifestation of whatever internal battle she was waging against herself.
“She’s doing really well.” He gestured to Bug, who gave him a curious glance. She’d filled in considerably since she arrived, and her wounds were healing nicely too.
“She reminds me of a unicorn or something with her purple patches,” Megan said.
“You hiding your magical powers from us, Bug?” he asked. She nuzzled his hand, searching for treats. “Sorry, girl. You caught me empty-handed.”
“She looks like she could be,” Megan said. “Hiding magical powers, that is. You know how superheroes and their animal sidekicks have their incognito personas when they’re not fighting the bad guys? Bug looks like that to me, like she could transform into a magical creature that carries a superhero into battle.”
“Who’s the superhero in that scenario?” Jake asked.
“You?” she suggested with a soft smile, darting a glance over at him. Her hair still covered her scars, and he wondered if this was her incognito persona too. He wished she could see herself the way he saw her, strong and brave and beautiful.
“Nah, definitely you,” he told her. “I’m getting Wonder Woman vibes.”
“Hardly,” she scoffed, keeping her gaze solidly on Bug. “This one, though…”
Bug’s coat was unique, mostly white with dappled spots that suggested some Appaloosa heritage, and those purple splotches around her face and neck. Her mane was short and spikey, like a mohawk, adding to her somewhat comical appearance.
“Now I’ll forever see her as an undercover superhero,” he said, stepping closer to slide an arm around Megan’s shoulders.
She leaned against him. “Do you think she’ll find a home soon? That either of them will?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I’ve never worked with rescue horses before. I have no idea what the average adoption timeframe is, and these guys aren’t even officially on the market yet, right?”
She shook her head, her silky brown hair falling over his arm. “They will be soon, though.”
“Are you ready for dinner?” he asked. It was an hour before they’d arranged to meet, and she was wearing the same clothes she’d had on when he saw her earlier—not that there was anything wrong with the way she looked, but he knew women usually liked to change before they went out. He hadn’t expected to see her here in the barn, and as glad as he was for it, he also felt like she might have come here for an escape…from what, he wasn’t sure.
“No,” she answered, confirming his suspicion. “I just stopped in to see Bug.”
“I’m finishing up early so I can get myself cleaned up in time.” He gestured to his clothes, bearing the dust and dirt of a day on the farm.
“I won’t keep you, then,” she said. “I’ve got to get ready too. I’ll meet you at the farmhouse at seven?”
He nodded. “You’re bringing the dogs with you, right?”
“Actually, I thought I should bring them down after we get back from dinner, so I don’t have to leave them unattended in your house before I’ve had a chance to get them settled.”
“Okay.” He watched as she closed and latched the door to Bug’s stall before drawing her into his arms. He held on to her for a long minute, hoping she was okay, wishing he could undo whatever had upset her. “So, I’ll see you in an hour.”
