Megan's mate

Fireworks were one thing, but when the Calhouns put their heads together planning Coco's engagement party, there promised to be plenty of skyrockets.

Everything from a masked ball to a moonlight cruise had been considered, with the final vote going to dinner and dancing under the stars. With only a week to complete arrangements, assignments were handed out.

Megan squeezed time out of each day to polish silver, wash crystal and inventory linens.

All this fuss.

Colleen thumped her way to the closet where Megan was counting napkins.

When a woman her age straps herself down to a man, she should have the sense to do it quietly.

Megan lost count and patiently began again.

Don't you like parties, Aunt Colleen?

When there's a reason for them. Never considered putting yourself under a man's thumb reason to celebrate.

Coco's not doing that. Dutch adores her.

Humph. Time will tell. Once a man's got a ring on your finger, he doesn't have to be so sweet and obliging.

Her crafty eyes studied Megan's face.

Isn't that why

you're putting off that big-shouldered sailor? Afraid of what happens after the 'I-dos'?

Of course not.

Megan laid a stack of linens aside before she lost count again.

And we're talking about Coco and Dutch, not me. She deserves to be happy.

Not everybody gets what they deserve,

Colleen shot back.

You'd know that well,

wouldn't you?

Exasperated, Megan whirled around.

I don't know why you're trying to spoil this.

Coco's happy, I'm happy. I'm doing my best to make Nathaniel happy.

I don't see you out buying any orange blossoms for yourself, girl.

Marriage isn't the answer for everyone. It wasn't for you.

No, I'm too smart to fall into that trap. Maybe you're like me. Men come and go.

Maybe the right one goes with the rest, but we get by, don't we? Because we know what they're like, deep down.

Colleen eased closer, her dark eyes fixed on Megan's face.

We've known the worst of them. The selfishness, the cruelty, the lack of honor and ethics. Maybe one steps into our lives for a moment, one who seems different. But we're too wise, too careful, to take that shaky step. If we live our lives alone, at least we know no man will ever have the power to hurt us.

I'm not alone,

Megan said in an unsteady voice.

No, you have a son. One day he'll be grown, and if you've done a good job, he'll leave your nest and fly off to make his own.

Colleen shook her head, and for one moment she looked so unbearably sad that Megan reached out. But the old woman held herself stiff, her head high.

You'll have the satisfaction of knowing you escaped the trap of marriage, just as I did. Do you think no one ever asked me? There was one, Colleen went on, before

Megan could speak.

One who nearly lulled me in before I remembered, before I turned him away, before I risked the hell my mother had known.

Colleen's mouth thinned at the memory.

He tried to break her in every way, with his rules, his money, his need to own. In the end, he killed her, then he slowly, slowly, went mad. But not with guilt. What ate at him, I think, was the loss of something he'd never been able to fully own. That was why he rid the house of every piece of her, and locked himself in his own private purgatory.

I'm sorry,

Megan murmured.

I'm so sorry.

For me? I'm old, and long past the time to grieve. I learned from my experience, as you learned from yours. Not to trust, never to risk. Let Coco have her orange blossoms, we have our freedom.

She walked away stiffly, leaving Megan to flounder in a sea of emotion.

Colleen was wrong, she told herself, and began to fuss with napkins again. She wasn't cold and aloof and blocked off from love. Just days ago she'd declared her love. She wasn't letting Baxter's shadow darken what she had with Nathaniel.

Oh, but she was. Wearily she leaned against the doorjamb. She was, and she wasn't sure she could change it. Love and lovemaking didn't equal commitment. No one knew that better than she. She had loved Baxter fully, vitally. And that was the shadow. Even knowing that what she felt for Nathaniel was fuller, richer, and much, much truer, she couldn't dispel that doubt.

She would have to think it through, calmly, as soon as she had time. The answer was always there, she assured herself, if you looked for it long enough, carefully enough.

All she had to do was process the data.

She tossed down her neatly counted napkins in disgust. What kind of woman was she? she wondered. She was trying to turn emotions into equations, as if they were some sort of code she had to decipher before she could know her own heart.

That was going to stop. She was going to stop. If she couldn't look into her own heart, it was time to...

Her thoughts trailed off, circled back, swooping down on one errant i.e. like a hawk on a rabbit.

Oh, God, a code. Leaving the linens in disarray, she flew down the hall to her own bedroom.