Country Brides by Debbie Macomber

Rorie murmured as shock waves coursed through her blood. They stopped with a thud at her heart and spread out in ripples of dismay.
    Somehow Rorie managed a smile, her outward composure unbroken. She was even able to offer her congratulations. To all appearances, nothing was wrong. No one would’ve known that those few simple words had destroyed a night she’d planned to treasure all her life.
    â€œI hope you and Clay will be very happy,” Rorie said—and she meant it. She’d just been introduced to Kate Logan, but already Rorie knew that this sweet friendly woman was exactly the kind of wife a man like Clay would need.
    â€œSkip’s rushing things a little,” Kate pointed out, but the glint of love in her eyes contradicted her words. “Clay hasn’t even given me an engagement ring yet.”
    â€œBut you and Clay have been talking about getting married, haven’t you?” Skip pressed. “And you’re crazy about him.”
    Kate blushed prettily. “I ’ve loved Clay from the time I was in fifth grade. I wrote his name all over my books. Of course, Clay wouldn’t have anything to do with me, not when he was a big important high-schooler and I was just the pesky little girl next door. It took a while for him to notice me—like ten years.” She gave a small laugh. “We’ve been dating steadily for the past two.”
    â€œBut you and Clay are going to get married, right?” Skip continued, clearly wanting to prove his point.
    â€œEventually, but we haven’t set a date, although I’m sure it’ll be soon,” Kate answered, casting a sharp look at Rorie.
    The tightness that had gripped Rorie’s throat eased and she struggled to keep her smile intact. It was impossible not to like Kate, but that didn’t lessen the ache in Rorie’s heart.
    â€œThe wedding’s inevitable,” Skip said offhandedly, “so I wasn’t exaggerating when I said you were Clay’s fiancée, now was I?”
    Kate smiled. “I suppose not. We love each other, and have for years. We’re just waiting for the right time.” Her eyes held Rorie’s, assessing her, but she didn’t seem worried about competition.
    Rorie supposed she should be pleased about that, at least.
    â€œI was taking Kate over to see Nightsong,” Skip explained to Rorie.
    â€œI actually came to Elk Run to meet you,” the other woman said. “Clay stopped by last night and told me about your car. I felt terrible for you. Your whole vacation’s been ruined. You must be awfully upset.”
    â€œThese things happen,” Rorie said with a shrug. “Being upset isn’t going to ship that part any faster. All I can do is accept the facts.”
    Kate nodded sympathetically. “Skip was about to show me the filly. You’ll come with us, won’t you?”
    Rorie nodded, unable to excuse herself without sounding rude. If there’d been a way, she would have retreated, wanting only to lick her wounds in private. Instead, hoping she sounded more enthusiastic than she felt, she mumbled, “I was headed in that direction myself.”
    Skip led the way to the barn, which was alive with activity. Clay had explained that Elk Run employed five men full-time, none of whom lived on the premises. Two men mucking out stalls paused when Skip and the women entered the building. Skip introduced Rorie and they touched the tips of their hats in greeting.
    â€œI don’t understand Clay,” Skip said as they approached the mare’s stall. “When we bought Star Bright a few years back, all Clay could do was complain about that silly name. He even talked about getting her registration changed.”
    â€œStar Bright’s a perfectly good name,” Kate insisted, her sunny blue eyes intent on the newborn foal.
    Nightsong was standing now on knobby, skinny legs that threatened to buckle, greedily feasting from