Adam (Farraday Country Book One)

Chapter Two

Okay, now what? Meg stood in the cramped little bathroom at the back of the garage. Considering how long she'd coveted the prized Vera Wang wedding gown that sat in a heap on the dirty floor, she wondered how dangerous it would be if she lit a match to it and watched the expensive dress go up in flames, like the rest of her life. She hadn't wanted the elaborate over-the-top wedding her mother and Jonathan had agreed on, but she had so loved the dress.

"You okay, miss?" Ned, the wiry old mechanic—who she'd swear had been around since the Model T—called to her.

Was she okay? The man she'd trusted with her heart and soul—and bank account—was a lying cheat. Every time her mind wandered back to standing at the gas pump and seeing her credit card denied—only to call and discover their spectacular first-class European honeymoon had been bought and paid for with her now maxed-out Visa card—she remembered why shooting the slime bucket in the balls was such a satisfying solution.

"Miss? If I'm gonna go look at that snazzy car of yours, I need to go now."

She glanced down quickly at the cotton shirt and capris she wore and hoped they didn't look too much like what they were—something she'd worn yesterday before changing into her gown. Quickly shoving the gown into the trash, she grabbed the doorknob and yanked it open. "I'm ready. Let's go." The inside of the tow truck wasn't in any better shape than the bathroom she'd used to change her clothes. Ignoring the seats held together with duct tape and avoiding the miscellaneous grease spots scattered about, Meg slid into the cab.

"You sure are lucky Doc Adam was out at the Thomas ranch. If you ask me, old man Jake takes better care of those prize horses of his than he does his own family. Yes siree, good for you the doc was out there for the birthing of one of those foals, or you could have been sitting out on that lonely road for hours, maybe days."

Meg nodded. She hadn't said much from the moment she'd been dropped off at the garage, changed from bride-to-be to single woman and climbed into this truck with a character straight out of Andy Griffith's fictional Mayberry. She hadn't had to. Ned, the geriatric mechanic, who Adam had assured her could fix anything with an engine, had done most of the talking.

Even when he asked a question, he didn't give her time to answer before moving on with his conversation. And a good thing too. Right now she needed answers of her own.

The analog clock on the dashboard told her it was already eight o'clock. It had taken nearly forty minutes to get to town from where the car had broken down. Another few minutes for the mechanic and veterinarian to do their country good-morning routine while she changed out of her wedding gown. Now, scanning the dusty horizon in search of that stupid car, she wondered how the hell to fix the mess her world had become.

One thing she knew for sure. She couldn't go back. Not to Dallas. That decision had been made somewhere west of Fort Worth, about the same time she'd disconnected the GPS, tossed her cell phone out the window and driven over it. Twice.

"Good stock, those Farradays." Ned's voice drifted past her thoughts. "Six boys. And they don't come much prettier than their sister, Grace."

Meg blinked. She had no idea what the man was talking about.

"Shame about Helen. Good woman. She'd be mighty proud of her little girl."

Her mind scrambled to follow the thread of conversation. Farraday? Wasn't that the cowboy veterinarian's last name? Yes, Adam Farraday. Once they'd given up on searching for the missing dog, they'd exchanged names. He'd barely finished assuring her the local mechanic was more than qualified to resolve her car trouble when she'd fallen asleep on the drive into town.