The Rancher's Family Thanksgiving. Cathy Thacker Gillen

couldn’t believe she was standing there, blubbering in the parking lot.

      She could believe Tyler was right there to fold her into his big strong arms and hold her close as the emotion poured out of her in great, galvanizing waves.

      It wasn’t the first time she had turned to him this way. Although she was beginning to think maybe it should be the last.

      It wasn’t fair of her, dumping all this on him when all he had done was care about her and stand by her. The two of them were crisis-buddies, nothing more, even if they had fallen into bed together, at last count, four highly memorable times.

      Even if he was the only man she had ever made love with. Or even wanted to make love with… Never mind dared get that close.

      She had to get a grip. He wasn’t her pillow.

      Although right now with her drenching his shirt, that must be what he felt like.

      She pulled away from him, wiping her eyes, and voiced the first excuse that came to mind that wouldn’t lead to questions. “I’m premenstrual,” she sniffed.

      He chucked her beneath her chin. She should have known he wouldn’t let her off easy.

      “Since when?” he teased.

      In an effort to shield her eyes from his probing gaze, Susie let her forehead rest against his chest. “Since… forever,” she mumbled. A fresh flood of tears pressed hotly behind her eyes.

      As if knowing the storm wasn’t over yet, Tyler tucked her into the curve of his arm and drew her back, to lean against the passenger side of his pickup truck. “There must be something more,” he murmured against the top of her head, one hand stroking down her back in long soothing strokes. “’Cause you rarely ever cry.” His warm breath touched her ear. He brought her closer yet. “Not like that.”

      She had gotten pretty good at blinking back—or all-out hiding—discreet tears, when she was in public. It didn’t mean she didn’t feel incredible, overwhelming sadness sometimes.

      And it didn’t mean Tyler didn’t pick up on the slightest change in her mood or demeanor. If she didn’t tell him now, he would just keep pestering her, keep digging, keep searching out the truth.

      Finally, she shrugged.

      She took the folded tissue he pressed into her hand.

      Wiped her eyes. Blew her nose. And still couldn’t look him in the eye. “It’s everything,” she said finally.

      Tyler brought her back into the curve of his strong arms. His touch was more brotherly than anything else, despite their passionate past. “I’m listening,” he told her in a low, gravelly voice.

      Susie took another halting breath as she struggled to get her emotions under control. “If you must know, it’s Rebecca and Trevor. Seeing them together tonight, just back from their honeymoon. They looked so incredibly happy together. And I’m glad for them, I really am.” More than she had words to say. “But…”

      Trevor nodded, even as his grip on her tightened protectively. “I felt a stab of envy, too,” he admitted in a low, understanding voice.

      Susie pressed on the bridge of her nose to keep more tears from falling. “Which is stupid,” she continued, making no effort to hide her aggravation with herself, “because marriage has never been something I wanted.”

      Trevor exhaled. His big body began to relax. “Me, either.”

      The tears she had been doing everything to stop flowed anyway. “And yet…”

      “Looking at the two of them—” Tyler picked up where she left off, as intuitive as ever where Susie was concerned “—I couldn’t help but feel I was missing out on something pretty spectacular.”

      “Yeah.” Susie forced a watery smile. She dabbed at her eyes and took in a deep breath. “Although if we see them again in a month, they’ll probably be fighting over who leaves the toothpaste cap on and who leaves it off.”

      Tyler ruffled the hair on the top of her head playfully. He drew back, smiling now. “And even that will be spectacular.”

      Susie warmed at his attentiveness, even as she cautioned herself not to get used to it. Due to their busy schedules, there were times when the two of them went months without seeing each other, except for the occasional accidental meeting.

      A couple other vehicles left the hospital parking lot. But Tyler seemed in no hurry to depart.

      Nor was she.

      She needed to talk to him tonight. She needed the special brand of comfort only he could give.

      “So what else is on your mind?” he prodded.

      Susie leaned against the side of the pickup truck, the cold metal a contrast with the warmth of Tyler’s tall frame. She folded her arms in front of her and looked up at the crescent moon, peeking out from behind the clouds. “I realized tonight I probably shouldn’t have agreed to my mom and dad’s plan to match me up with someone.”

      Tyler shrugged, unconcerned. He turned so he was standing with one shoulder braced against the truck, facing her. He reached over and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “So tell ’em you’ve changed your mind.”

      Susie studied the strong column of his throat, visible in the open neck of his shirt. “I made a deal. Besides—” she paused, bit her lip “—this is the only way I know to get them to back off for now.”

      “So you’re assuming this won’t work?” Tyler didn’t look unhappy about that.

      Nor, Susie realized, was she.

      Finally, she felt herself begin to relax. And smile. “Well, duh, of course not,” she said wryly. She paused to look deep into his hazel eyes, noticing all over again what a ruggedly handsome man he was. And it was more than just the symmetry of his features. It was his kindness and compassion. The humor he exhibited. The way he picked up on a person’s slightest change in mood, the way he could always make a person feel better, with an offhand comment or smile.

      Tyler McCabe was one man who was beautiful inside and out.

      A man who revered family and friends.

      A man who should not be going through life alone.

      Aware he was waiting for her to continue unburdening herself, she said, “Fix-ups never work.”

      He squinted as if doing some inner calculations, then finally allowed in a matter-of-fact tone, “Statistically, there’s probably a slight chance.”

      Susie blew out an exasperated breath and shifted, her knee nudging his leg slightly in the process. “Not chance enough,” she muttered. The idea of living some real-life fairy tale occasionally dredged up romantic dreams she’d had about her future. But inevitably reality intervened and hit her with a terrible illness, disabusing her of any notion that she lived in a bubble, protected from all the worst things in life. Others might lead a charmed existence. Not her.

      Never her.

      “Some of us aren’t cut out for marriage,” Susie said firmly.

      “I hear you.”

      She smiled. “So don’t look for me to have an engagement ring on my finger, because it’s just not going to happen.”

      Was that her imagination or was that a distinctly male satisfaction gleaming in his eyes, before concern took over once again.

      Tyler studied her with his usual intuitiveness. “So what else is dragging you down?”

      Susie knew there was something more, too, but she couldn’t figure out what.

      She just knew, after she had talked to Tyler today, out at Healing Meadow, that she’d felt depressed. And her low mood had continued through the evening, only abating slightly when she had asked Tyler to go to the hospital with her.