Page 55 of Megan's Mate
“Suit yourself.” Sloan settled back to enjoy the ride.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
Megan had no more than stepped in the door of The Towers when she found herself surrounded by concern.
“I’m fine, really.” Her protests hadn’t prevented the Calhouns from herding her into the family kitchen and plying her with tea and sympathy. “This has gotten blown out of proportion.”
“When somebody messes with one of us,” C.C. corrected, “they mess with all of us.”
She glanced outside, where the children were playing happily in the yard. “I appreciate it. Really. But I don’t think there’s anything more to worry about.”
“There won’t be.” Colleen stepped into the room, her gaze scanning each face in turn. “What are you all doing in here, smothering the girl? Get out.”
“Aunt Colleen...” Coco began.
“Out, I said, all of you. You, go back to your kitchen and flirt with that big Dutchman you’ve got sneaking into your room at night.”
“Why, I—”
“Go. And you.” Now her cane gestured threateningly at Amanda. “You’ve got a hotel to run, don’t you? Go weed some flowers,” she ordered Suzanna. “And you go tinker with an engine.” She flicked her gaze from C.C. to Lilah.
“Tougher with me, isn’t it, Auntie?” Lilah said lazily.
“Take a nap,” Colleen snapped.
“Got me,” Lilah said with a sigh. “Come on, ladies, we’ve been dismissed.”
Satisfied, when the door swung shut behind them, Colleen sat heavily at the table. “Get me some of that tea,” she ordered Megan. “See that it’s hot.”
Though she moved to obey, Megan wasn’t cowed. “Do you always find rudeness works to your advantage, Miss Calhoun?”
“That, old age, and a hefty portfolio.” She took the tea Megan set in front of her, sipped, nodded grudgingly when she found it hot and strong. “Now then, sit down and listen to what I have to say. And don’t prim your mouth at me, young lady.”
“I’m very fond of Coco,” Megan told her. “You embarrassed her.”
“Embarrassed her? Ha! She and that tattooed hulk have been mooning around after each other for days. Gave her a prod is what I did.” But she eyed Megan craftily. “Loyal when it’s deserved, are you?”
“I am.”
“And so am I. I made a few calls this morning, to some friends in Boston. Influential friends. Hush,” she ordered when Megan started to speak. “Detest politics myself, but it’s often necessary to dance with the devil. Dumont should be being made aware, at this moment, that any contact with you, or your son, will fatally jeopardize his ambitions. He will not trouble you again.”
Megan pressed her lips together. She wanted her voice to be steady. No matter what she had said, how she had pretended, there had been an icy fear, like a cold ax balanced over her head, of what Baxter might do. In one stroke, Colleen had removed it.
“Why did you do it?”
“I loathe bullies. I particularly loathe bullies who interfere with the contentment of my family.”
“I’m not your family,” Megan said softly.
“Ha! Think again. You stuck your toe in Calhoun waters, girl. We’re like quicksand. You’re a Calhoun now, and you’re stuck.”
Tears rushed into her eyes, blinding her. “Miss Calhoun—” Megan’s words were cut off by the impatient rap of Colleen’s cane. After a sniffle, Megan began again. “Aunt Colleen,” she corrected, understanding. “I’m very grateful.”
“So you should be.” Colleen coughed to clear her own husky voice. Then she raised it to a shout. “Come back in here, the lot of you! Stop listening at the door!”
It swung open, Coco leading the way. She walked to Colleen, bent, kissed the papery cheek.
“Stop all this nonsense.” She waved her grandnieces away. “I want the girl to tell me how that strapping young man tossed that bully in the drink.”
