She went to the downstairs bedroom to collect the towel he’d used.
She sighed as she looked around the room. He was really going to be crowded in here, with all the computer equipment. He had several computers, a fax machine, two printers, and some other things she couldn’t identify. It did seem excessive for a rancher.
If all this equipment was in his master bedroom, he’d have more room. It was the largest bedroom in the house. Her mother had insisted she take the master bedroom, even though she’d protested. Maybe she should offer to trade with Rick. He could—
“Megan?”
She returned to the kitchen, clutching her armful of dirty clothes. “Yes? Did you fix it?”
“Yeah, I did.” Then he frowned. “What are you doing with those smelly clothes?”
“I thought I’d put them in the washer.”
“I can pick up after myself.”
His voice was hard, unfriendly, which puzzled her.
“I’m just trying to keep the house clean. Remember, that was our agreement.”
“I didn’t mean for you to pick up after me constantly. I can take care of that.” His face turned red. “I know it didn’t look like it the other night, but—”
“Rick, it’s okay. You fixed my car. I’m grateful. I wash your clothes, you’re grateful. Okay?”
“You make things sound simple.”
Some of the tension had left his voice and Megan breathed a sigh of relief. “I think it is. Even if you hadn’t fixed my car, you’re doing a wonderful thing for us.”
“Uh, about the car. I fixed it.”
She beamed at him. “Yes, I can’t thank you enough. It would’ve been expensive to have the mechanic come out in the morning.”
“Uh, yeah. Did you tell your mother the car wouldn’t start?”
“No, I haven’t said anything yet. Why? Shouldn’t I tell her?” There had been something in his voice that told her everything wasn’t right.
“Well, I’m not sure, but I think someone sabotaged your car.”
“Someone what? You think someone actually broke my car on purpose? That’s ridiculous, Rick. The only people here today were the ladies and me and Mom.”
“I know, Megan, but—”
“Why, even if they wanted to, and I can’t think of a single reason they would, they’re women. They wouldn’t know how to do anything to the car.”
Rick laughed. “You have a lot to learn.”
She stiffened. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because the only one of those ladies who hasn’t lived on a ranch most of her life is Florence. And I suspect she could manage as well as any of them. Mabel, Edith and Ruth could probably take a tractor apart and rebuild it before you could blink an eye.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because a rancher’s wife is his partner, his helpmate, his—his wife.”
Megan waved away his words. “No, I mean why would they want to mess up my car? They’re our friends.”
“Ask their sons.”
His cryptic words didn’t make any sense to Megan. She stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
Rick rubbed the back of his neck again, a movement Megan was beginning to realize meant he wasn’t sure what to say. When he did speak, it wasn’t to explain his words.
“You’d better go put those clothes in the washing machine before you need a bath yourself.”
She hadn’t even realized she still held the stinky clothes. With a huff of frustration, she charged down the hall to the utility room and dumped the clothes into the washing machine. Quickly adding soap, she twirled the dial and started the washer. Then she returned to the kitchen.
“Well? Are you ready to explain?”
“Is there any coffee?”
With another frustrated sigh, she prepared his percolator and plugged it in.
“We can talk while it’s perking,” she suggested, waving him to the table.
He didn’t look happy, but he accepted her invitation, settling himself in the same seat he’d used when he ate dinner. “Look, Megan, you’re going to think I’m crazy, but I think the ladies were matchmaking.”
She did think he was