"Hello, tenderfoot."
"Clay," she replied, trying not to succumb to his velvety voice. His scrutiny forced her to look up. "What brings you here?" she finally asked.
"I'm on a break from the circuit and decided to visit my grandparents. Is it wrong to visit family? Weren't you always preaching about family values?"
Megan sneered. "Why are you here at the ranch?"
"Curious about the old place and you." His emphasis on you and the fact that he stared at her a moment too long caused her knees to buckle. She despised his scrutiny. "How was college?"
"Like you care."
"Not really, but I am curious if it's worth the time and effort."
She stared at him amazed she was not drawn in by his dark, mesmerizing eyes. Was this a game or did he want to know, despite his thoughts about college being a waste of time and money. "Actually, it is worth it. More than you would ever understand. In fact, last semester was better than I imagined. I'm excited for the fall semester."
Clay stood tall against the center post, his hands tucked in the front pockets of his tight-fitting jeans. His black eyes seared deep into Megan's oval-shaped eyes but she looked away. This time he would not draw her in.
"It is your life," he finally said. "Oh, and don't worry, Tenderfoot. I'm only passing through." He whistled an unrecognizable tune and then left. Megan followed, needing to see him leave.
She watched the black 4 x 4 leave the drive, followed by a cloud of dust. "Good riddance," she muttered and returned to the barn. She returned the pitchfork to its hangar with force and then stomped out of the barn mumbling about Clay's untimely arrival. The kids bombarded her.
"Please take us riding," they pleaded.
"Sure," she said, enthused to be doing something other than ponder the Clay situation. The gang saddled their horses and then practiced different gaits. Megan kept tabs on Christa and saw her watching, but what would it take to get her riding again? As she circled the arena, Megan offered pointers and praise.
"This is stupid," Danny hollered out, pulling tighter on the reins to stop his horse. "Let's go in circles like we're on a merry-go-round. Some adventure to write home about." He ran his fingers through his short blond hair. It now stood on end reminding Megan of Mr. Snow Miser from The Year without a Santa Claus. She stifled her laugh as to not further aggravate the young lad.