The next page was blue. “‘Sexy lingerie is always a great idea. Red and black are the best colors to get a man’s attention. And it doesn’t hurt to put a dab of perfume here and there. You’ll know where, honey.’” Maggie chuckled. “Francine, you naughty girl! That sounds just like you!”

Francine hooted with laughter.

Then Maggie drew out another yellow page. Megan’s heart sank. Why hadn’t she written something more conventional?

Maggie adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat. “‘Watch your man sleep. Touch his hair, feel his breath, and remember all the reasons you love him.’”

“Oh . . .” Maggie’s voice broke slightly. “This is beautiful—almost like a song. I don’t know who wrote it, but she sounds like a lady who’s very much in love. Does anybody want to fess up?” She glanced around the room. “No? Well, I’ll put it aside for now and guess later.”

As she slid another page out of the folder, Megan exhaled in relief. For now, she was off the hook. But she wouldn’t feel safe until the party was over.

The game continued to its end, followed by the opening of the shower gifts. By the time the last present was unwrapped, the afternoon was getting on, and most of the busy women needed to get home. Maggie stood by the door to thank each one as she left. Megan was among the last. As she approached the door, Maggie motioned her aside.

“What you wrote was beautiful, Megan,” she said. “It took me a little time to guess it was you. But when you didn’t admit to any of the others, I knew.”

Megan flushed. “Thank you for not giving me away. I was afraid I’d gotten too personal. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Maggie smiled. “I believe I do. And I hope things work out for you and Conner. You’re just the woman he needs.”

With a murmur of thanks, Megan squeezed her hand and left. Was Maggie right? Was she really the woman for Conner, or was she just one more in a long succession of girlfriends, to be cast off when someone more exciting showed up—like Lacy?

* * *

Still lost in thought, she drove home. She found the house quiet, her father gone, her mother in her studio, and Daniel at the kitchen table, munching cookies and poring over the Texas Driver Handbook.

“Aren’t you home early?” she asked.

“My shoulder was hurting a little. Sam, my new boss, drove me home. He told me to rest until tomorrow. He’s a really nice guy.”

“Yes, I had that impression when I met him.” Megan remembered the man—not only handsome, but with a good job. If he wasn’t spoken for, Branding Iron’s single ladies would already be taking notice.

“How was the party?” Daniel asked.

“Fine.” Megan remembered Katy’s surprise announcement. She sat down across the table from him. “Daniel, have you and Katy made plans to get married?”

“Sure, we have.”